If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings
by LadyCroft.Undead19
Summary: This wasn't my Arena. That was the first thing I realized as I gazed at the fields of grass, crops and dirt surrounded by enormous white stone walls. The second thing I realized was that this had to all be a mistake, I didn't belong here. I had been running for three days... Only to wake up inside the Box. Again. Why? Who put me here? Why was I here?
1. Prelude

Hello to everyone who has decided to read this story; I would like to say you are all awesome!

Now, a few warnings before continuing:

This story will be divided into three 'Books', one for each movie (which is the media I will be focusing on, as I have no read the books yet); with each book divided into different Parts.

As I publish this chapter, Part I of Book I is complete; as a sort of trial run about how exactly I will be writing and updating this story.

Speaking of updating this story, I already have a main story I am writing at the same time, Cloudy Rain and Thunder, and my time will sometimes be mostly devoted to that story. **This is a sort of hobby-fic of mine while I 'decompress' from a long days work.**

The story is **OC-centric** ; meaning my Original Character is the star of this show; and the universe is **AU - Canon Divergence** ; so expect changes to the plot to occur during the length of the story.

Also, **this story may contain subject matters and themes that may be considered 'mature'** ; In other words, I might be a little graphic in description of violence (once we get to those parts) **and topics not safe for younger audiences** (such as suicide and depression).

Without taking more of your time, here's the chapter, and I hope you like it!

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 **\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

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 **Prelude -** "Every new beginning comes...

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The familiar sound of an alarm blaring right in my ears is enough to rouse me from my unusually deep slumber. Cobwebs of sleep and confusion are swept away in seconds when my bleary eyes recognize the overwhelming darkness and the feeling of being carried upwards rapidly on a metal surface.

 _I remembered this..._ I _knew_ what this was...

This was the **Box**.

But that couldn't be, could it? **Why would I be in the Box?** I'd already been in the Box a long time ago, why would I be in the Box again?

 _Again..._

No one had ever been in the Box more than once. **No one.**

So why was I here? _Where was the Box taking me?_

 **Who put me here?**

 _'It's going up',_ I voiced aloud in my thoughts, _' The speed is dropping, it's going to reach the top soon.'_

Memories of those doors opening and ashen faces staring down at me with empty eyes twist my stomach.

I'd have probably puked if I had had anything in my stomach, instead I shivered against the metal grating of the Box.

 _This didn't make sense._ Why would the Box be taking me up to the Arena? There was nothing there, no one remained in the Arena, **_I was the last one_**. So why would the Box be taking me up there?

 _'Maybe this is all a dream'_ , I thought, _' Maybe all we think is reality hasn't happened yet. It could all just be a fever dream.'_

Those thoughts are shamelessly shattered though when I stand up on shaky legs and lean on the cold metal walls. My body hurts. It's sore and it hurts to breath in too deeply, my ribs are probably badly bruised, which would make sense since I remembered having a nasty tumble whilst I was running...

Running from _what_ though?

 **I couldn't remember.**

 _And_ that _scared me._

"It's happening again..." My throat sounds raw, like I've been screaming for hours and, in the back of my head, I weigh if it wouldn't be better for me to not talk for a while.

I was back in the Box and I felt as if I was missing something. _My memories..._

 **Someone had messed up my memories.**

My stomach rebelled again.

Immediately I tried to recall the names and faces of the people I knew, relieved when the answer came back positive, then I tried to remember all I did for the last two years, again, relieved when I could safely say I hadn't forgotten anything.

But I grew concerned when I realized I couldn't recall leaving the maze or seeing anyone in it, because if _I_ hadn't left the maze, _someone_ or something had to have taken me _out_ of it, and the exact outline of the maze was fuzzy.

I couldn't picture it in my mind perfectly like I usually could.

 _'Is anything missing?'_ The thought bubbles in my mind.

I check, grossed out when I feel congealed patches of gore and slime from a previous encounter with a Beast, and I am relieved to see that no, I have all my equipment. Funny enough, whoever put me back in the Box didn't even take the dagger I had made with a Beast's claw.

 **Better not look a gift horse in the mouth.**

I look around the Box, despite the overwhelming darkness, for something out of the ordinary but I find nothing. Crates and boxes piled up and secured on one side of the Box whilst a newbie, once again that being me, stood on the other side.

I breathe in deeply and find it suspicious when the familiar smell of ash and decay doesn't immediate touch my nose, the Box is close enough to the surface that it should be obvious by now.

That thought made another memory pop up. The ghost pain of my head hitting the ceiling of the Box when it stopped suddenly making me wince, causing me to hiss in pain when that makes my bruises worsen.

Best find a way for that to not happen again. I crouch beside the crates and hold tightly to the ropes securing them.

I close my eyes in preparation for the blinding light of the outside.

 _'What am I going to do?'_ I think to myself, _' What am I going to see when those doors open?'_

Faceless people staring down at me, leering and sounds of screams make the air in my lungs freeze. I cough violently.

 _'Don't think. Don't wait. As soon as those doors open, just run.'_ A voice whispers in my ear.

 **I remember that voice.**

 _'You know the drill, Cricket,'_ the voice laughs, _' We'll be right behind you.'_

I relax minutely, letting my breathing slow and my thoughts to still.

 **Don't think. Don't wait. Just run.**

The Box stops completely with a mighty lurch, I lean further against the crates, the alarm keeps blaring for a few seconds longer before stopping. In my mind's eye I can see the red light turn green.

I'm left in silence for two seconds before voices drift from above.

 **Too many voices.**

There was _never_ that many people in the Arena.

 _'Where am I?!'_ Fear tries to capture my mind.

 _'Don't think! Run, Cricket! Run!'_ Ell's voice screams at me, grounding my panic to a halt.

I cautiously open my eyes slowly, it isn't as bright as I feared, and the air is warmer than I'm used to.

 _A warm day?_ Could I be this lucky?

I don't look up as the doors fully open, but I can still feel their heavy stares at seeing me half hidden behind the crates and shadows.

 _They can't get a clear view of me..._

The sound of boots hitting the metal floor of the Box makes me tense up, energy bubbling inside of me, growing with each heavy pump of my heart.

Adrenaline, _fantastic._

I watch whoever it is approaching me through the corner of my eye.

Male, seventeen or eighteen, tall, brownish hair cut very short. I can't get a clear picture of his eyes, but I believe them to be brown.

I can, however, see muscle in his arms and legs. He's strong, he's the type of guy that can back up the words he spouts in a conflict.

 **Not good.**

"Day One, Greenie." He taunts, voice mocking.

Greenie, the nickname used for newbies most likely.

The Arena didn't send anyone to grab the newbie as he arrives. In the Arena, people don't talk to others without prompt.

 _'This isn't the Arena.'_ That thought sends cold chills down my spine.

Unfortunately for him, I'm not a newbie (as far as I'm concerned) and I'm not someone easily daunted. I let his words slide off me like water off a ducks back mostly because I'm certain he hasn't gotten a clear view of me yet.

 _Else he wouldn't be so quick to judge me._

He reaches down to grab me and in the split second he does I launch myself to my feet. He stumbles back at my sudden movement, but recovers quickly.

 **Just not quick enough.**

Using him as a jumping board I grab hold of the edge of the Box and pull myself up, as soon as my feet touch the ground I'm running.

 _'Don't think. Don't wait. Just run.'_ I keep the mantra in my head, nearly imagining Leaf, Ell and Tie following behind me, heads lowered and bodies loose.

Some of the boys surrounding the Box try to grab me as I run past them, but none manage to grab a hold of me.

 _'If you're caught, you're dead.' _Leaf tells me, _'So make sure to run faster than anyone else.'_

"Someone get Alby!" "Grab him!" "That shank's fast!" "We have a runner!" "He's headed for the Doors!"

Their voices are loud. Loud and distracting, I try to push them out of my mind with limited success. Subconsciously I knew that their words were important in terms of information they might spill.

Alby had to be someone important. Or fast. Shank... I wasn't sure what it _meant_ exactly, but I perceived that as an insult. Runner, that one was easy to know the meaning of.

 _Doors..._ I lift my eyes to stare at the imposing white gates that symbolized the only way out of the enclosure I found myself in. **Again.**

Just like the Arena, though I never thought I had ever seen so much green shrubbery and grass before.

And if this place was just like the Arena then that meant those Doors lead to the Maze.

I scoff internally, I was not going to run blindly into the Maze. _No way._

 **I'm headed for higher ground.**

I take a sharp turn and jump over a rudimentary fence and through a field of corn, ignore the shouting and swearing happening behind me, and speed up towards the large forest I can see peeking out of the corn.

I try not to gape at the corn, though. The sight of it made my stomach clench in hunger.

 _When was the last time I ate?_

I shake my head, now was not the time, my lungs burn with how fast I'm running despite my aching body and weakened state. The forest is right in front of me now.

 _Trees._ Tall and thick trees with dark green leaves that offer protection from the sun. **Trees are safe.** So long as they cannot reach you, so long as they _cannot_ grab you, you are safe.

 _'For now.'_ My mind unhelpfully supplies.

The forest is different than I'm used to, it's bigger and more alive than the cold, desolate spare trees with weak branches I've learned to climb, I try to not let that thought trouble me at the moment.

I can't hear them chasing after me anymore, clearly I've lost them for a few minutes at least.

My heart is thundering in my chest and my chest hurts a lot more than it did before, I have to end this chase here lest I risk being caught. I jump to catch a low hanging branch of the tree I'm closest to and pull myself up.

It makes my arms and back muscles protest but I push myself further, climbing up to the higher branches that still have a lot of cover. I need to have a good overview of where I am exactly, but I cannot be left visible to anyone who's invested in finding my hiding spot.

When I deem myself sufficiently high up and hidden I slump against the tree trunk. All the adrenaline slowly rush out of my body and leaving me with new aches and scratches from my mad dash up the rough bark.

I lift my hands up so I can see them in the light, there's cuts and scratches lining the palms of my hands, both dried and fresh blood coating my fingers and I have ugly bruises around my wrists.

My arms are scratched up too, just not as bad as my hands.

I let my eyes wonder to my chest and legs.

 **My clothes are drenched in blood.**

That's the first thing that catches the eye, the ugly dark red color of blood slowly turning a rusty cooper color as it dries and cracks over the thick material of my shirt and pants.

My shoes look like they've been through the wringer, falling apart at the seams despite the tape holding them together.

I pull my shirt up and stare at the discolored and bruised skin underneath it. My fingers barely graze them when I pull them back with a hiss.

That **hurt**. _A lot._

"Let's not do that again." I mutter weakly to myself, my voice sounds croak-y and weak.

I can count my ribs through my skin, my stomach clenches in hunger again, and I let my shirt fall back down on my chest.

 **I haven't eaten in days.** Haven't had a good decent meal in months. _I was probably going to pay for this later._

I let my head fall back against the tree and I close my eyes.

I had hoped when I took off out of those doors that I would _never_ find myself here in the Arena again.

And I kind of got my wish, right? _This wasn't my Arena._ I didn't recognize that boy, he was my age, or around it at the very least, so I should've been able to recognize him if I had ever met him.

 _'He didn't look like the others,'_ my mind adds.

He looked healthy and well-fed, something I can't say I've used to describe someone else in a while, plus confident enough to taunt whoever he wanted without fear of immediate repercussions.

 _No, this wasn't my Arena._

It was warm, too warm, and there was too much vegetation. Crops... I remembered seeing various crops growing as I ran through the fields. And animals, in the wind I could hear animals making all kind of sounds.

 _Amazing..._

 **This wasn't my Arena.**

...

 _Then where was I?_ What was I doing here?

The sounds of footsteps walking through the forest halts me in my musings, instantly focusing on what was being said as whoever it was grew closer.

"...he just took off, didn't ask anything just jumped out of the Box and took off." I hear someone say, his voice had an accent I had never heard before and that stumps me for a moment.

 _How odd._

I control my breathing (despite my chest protesting) to make it harder for someone to hear me.

"And Gally just let him run off?" Another one questions, this time the voice is stern and gruff, "The others just stood there and watched him disappear?"

This was their leader, _probably_.

I tense up in my tree branch, fingers closing around a knife hidden in my shoe. I could have a damn good aim when I wanted to, even if I hadn't practiced in a while.

 _'Hold it like this, yeah like that, Cricket, now throw it!'_ Ell instructed.

"Gally ran after him as soon as he got back up, Clint and Alex chased after him plus a few of the other boys who were working and saw him pass by but he was just too fast for them." The british boy answers, sounding vaguely amused by the whole ordeal, "Dmitri and Fred are guarding the Doors until they close, so he hasn't gone through them." He added.

"How is it possible for _one_ Greenbean to outrun twenty odd shanks and no one saw exactly where he ran off to?" The leader scoffs.

"We know he ran off this way..." The other one seems to sigh.

I hear them grow closer to my position so I carefully look down to see them.

They are both tall, eighteen or nineteen, _maybe_ even tall seventeen year olds, looking from side to side as they walk slowly, almost as if they expect me to pop out of the bushes.

 _'Not damn likely,'_ I huff under my breath.

One of them walks with a limp, I realize. _Old injury?_ He has curly blond hair that burns under the sunlight and light colored skin. Although he wears long sleeves I am able to see the muscles underneath.

He's lean but I wouldn't want to get into close combat with him, not whilst I'm this dead tired on my feet.

As I'm above them and both boys are busy starring down at their surroundings I can't make out his eye color but part of me assumes he has dark eyes.

 **He reminds me of Leaf** , appearance wise.

The second guy is dark skinned, hair cut so close to his scalp he might as well be bald, with wide shoulders and a bulky stature.

 _He cuts a remarkable figure against the darkening sky._

"The Box was late today," the dark skinned one, I recognize his voice as the one I dubbed 'the Leader', says,"And now this?"

"We'll find him, Alby." The blond tells him,"The Doors are closing soon, Minho and the others will be back in a bit and then they can help us look for him. Once the doors close it's not like the Greenie has anywhere to go." He shrugs.

He's right, of course. Once the Maze closes for the day I only have the enclosure to run around in, and I'm not delusional enough to believe they won't find me sooner or later with me being unfamiliar with the terrain and with their routines.

At most I can stall their discovery for a few hours and catch a bit of shut-eye before I'm forced to another game of cat and mouse.

Another piece of information I gleamed off of the short conversation was that the leader was named Alby, the one the others went to call when I made my break for it, which made sense. And this Minho guy was out on the Maze... _Couldn't say I understood that._

I had been on my Maze many times (too many in my opinion) and I never thought I'd see someone willingly go in it. The smooth stone walls covered in ivy and mould that changed day, the dead ends or endless corridors always gave me anxiety.

Tie had had to drag me through them whilst I was frantically trying to keep myself calm more times than I cared to admit.

"Why would he run?" The leader shakes his head,"We have rules. No Glader is to be harmed." He tells the blond.

 _Well,_ that's _interesting._

"He couldn't have bloody known that, could he?" The blond sighs," Don't worry, Alby, we'll find him soon enough and you can give him the rules speech."

 _And now that interesting as turn to worrying._

 **Rules...** _Not_ again _._

Glader... A term used to refer to the people living here, maybe?

And the 'No harm' rule seems unrealistic to me. A lie, basically, despite the fact I cannot sense a lie coming from them.

This place looks familiar to my Arena but the people in it couldn't be any more different.

'It's not safe to trust them,' my mind tells me, remembering what happened to the others.

Although it wasn't likely that I would ever be able to forget, especially with all that's happened.

The two don't say anything else, they just walk out of my line of sight and leave me alone to breath out and relax against the tree again. I'm not incredibly comfortable sitting here but truth of the matter was that I had sat and hid longer in more uncomfortable and tight spaces than a thick tree branch.

At least up here I could actually breathe easily. I move slightly on the branch and let out a quiet hiss when the bark presses on a cut running down my back, hopefully it had stopped bleeding and had scabbed over already.

Though, _if it had_ , then my sprint from the Box to here and my climbing effort has surely opened it back up.

 _Damn._ That is so going to hurt later on, especially if the shirt gets glued to it.

I turn my eyes upwards to the darkening afternoon sky, it's nearly dusk the Doors had to be clo-...

A loud clanking sound alerted the start of the Doors closing.

 _Just like in my Arena._

I pushed away memories of those imposing Doors closing on desperate faces, too slow to make it back before it was too late.

I closed my eyes and let myself snooze lightly. I was tired, like bone-deep, dead on my feet, tired. Plus my head hurt and I was not emotionally ready to deal with the idea that I was, once again, stuck inside a Maze with twenty to thirty odd people I had never met before in my life.

Granted, my 'life' consisted of two years worth of memories I had made _whilst_ trapped in a Maze similar to this one, 'cept mine certainly didn't have as many people as this one.

Not _alive_ , at least.

"Holy klunk!" Someone gasps.

 _Of for the love of...-_

I rigidly sit up on the branch and look down to stare at the bastard who spotted me, unreasonably surprised to see a tall asian teenager (couldn't have been more than seventeen with those soft edges on his face) staring, or gaping, at me.

"You scared the hell out of me, Greenbean." He gulps.

I remain silent, deeply amused by his reaction, in this sorry state I couldn't look _very friendly_. Blood soaked clothes, dirt and gore covering me from head to toe, plus I was not amused by this whole situation so my expression could've been anything between a glare to an empty stare.

I observe him from the safety of my branch, he's as tall as the other three I've met but 'bigger' than them, in the way that he either shows more muscle or that he stands straighter, not exactly sure.

He has dark hair and eyes, wearing simple clothes that only highlight the leather pads and harness he carries.

 **He's dangerous.** This is someone who's ready, and _expecting_ , for a fight.

"Are you hurt?" He asks quietly, frowning up at me as he takes in my appearance.

Honestly, I'd apologize. I don't know him from anywhere and as long as he doesn't try to get too close to me I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and not attack him on sight, _but as of recent events..._

I wasn't exactly on top shape here, and my patience was running thin. Instead of answering I tense further when he walks closer to my tree.

 _Perhaps I should throw something at him?_ Not a knife, _those_ could be perceived as an immediate threat, a branch maybe?

"Oh, klunk! I nearly forgot!" His eyes widen before he takes off, leaving me alone.

 _Well... That was unexpected._

 _'He went to fetch others,'_ my thoughts process what's happening, _' I should leave this tree and hide somewhere else.'_

And I _am_ tempted to, really, except now that they knew of my ability to climb and hide in foliage it'll be easier to find me a second time, furthermore I might as well just wait here and fight them off if it proves necessary.

Even _if I have never fought off thirty odd people at once..._

"...And he just scared the klunk out of me, he's just sitting there covered in blood!" The teen's voice is loud in my ears, getting louder by the second as he gets closer to the tree again.

When he returns to his previous spot he's accompanied by others, _which I was expecting_ , but with a lot less people than I imagined. Only the leader, the blond from before and a brown haired guy that's carrying a small bulging bag over his shoulder.

"How much blood?" The brown haired guy asks immediately after he stops talking.

"You tell me," He answers, pointing to where I am sitting staring down at them.

The three males pale at the sight.

"That's not good..." The brown haired one breathes.

"How in the bloody hell did he climb that high?!" The blond gasps, eyes wide open.

Inwardly I am pleased to see my assumption of their color being correct, brown eyes contrasting against his light hair color.

But I am confused by the worry that flashes through their eyes as they watch me.

 _Why would_ they _be worried?_ _Are they afraid I was going to_ attack _them?_

 _'I could,'_ I muse in my mind, _' But that's not going to help the situation I find myself stuck in.'_

"Hey..." A quiet voice brings my attention back on the group, I turn to see the leader, Alby, approach the tree slowly,"It's okay, we're not going to hurt you."

I don't believe him but I don't say anything of the sort to him, maybe if I ignored them they'd leave me alone.

"My name is Alby, I'm the one in charge here." He points to himself," And these shanks right here are Newt," he points at the blond," my second-in-command, Clint," he points to the brown haired guy," he's a Med-jack he can treat your wounds, and then this guy right here is Minho," he points to the one that found me," he's one of our Runners."

Okay... So Runner _isn't_ perhaps what I thought it was.

And Med-jack? Really? They named it that?

Also, I couldn't help but slowly blink as they said their names out loud to me. _What were they thinking?_ **You don't do that.**

 _You don't just say your name..._ What was _going on_ here?

"Can you come down from there?" He asks me, taking a step further to the tree.

I give him an unimpressed stare from where I am.

My ears detect a chuckle coming from the group but I just keep staring at the approaching male.

"Fair enough," The leader nods, I believe he was a bit amused by my response,"Look, I know you're confused, that's normal. But there's nothing to be scared of." He tells me.

I _would_ have let that comment slide if something inside the Maze hadn't chosen that exact moment to shriek unholy hell, easily heard in the quiet of the evening.

I crack a grim expression at him.

" _ **Liar.**_ " I croak, my throat sore and hurting.

They tense at my response, _really what were they expecting_ me _to say once I heard that?_ , and the brown haired guy, Clint, tries to get closer.

I hiss at him, stunning the group.

"You're hurt." He says," You need to get those wounds treated."

 _Technically_ badly bruised does not constitutes as 'hurt enough to require assistance', at least in my book, and the worst wound I have is a cut on my back and like hell I'm turning my back on an unknown.

"'m not." I tell him.

"Do you remember your name?" The leader asks me.

I nod, of course I remember it, hadn't forgotten it since I first woke up in the B-...

 _Oh._ Oh! They think I'm just a regular newbie! **They don't know I come from a different maze.**

Which was hard not to see since I was wearing clothes similar to theirs, with mine being thicker and way more ragged than theirs, with harnesses and leather straps exactly like the asian's, Minho's?

"Can you tell us your name?" The leader asks then, if they are surprised I remembered it 'so quickly' they don't show it.

I shake my head immediately at his question.

 **I wasn't giving them my name.**

" _Mine_ ," I rasp.

They blink at my response.

"Well... We're not going to bloody take it from you." The blond huffs.

I hear Minho hiss a low "Newt!" in his direction.

"Doesn't... matter!" I cough, I should really stop trying to talk, my throat feels like sandpaper.

"You need to come down so I can take a look at you," this Clint guy sighs," You don't look too good."

 _'Really? You don't say,'_ I roll my eyes,"No." I voice aloud.

"Look, Greenie, here in the Glade we have three rules." Alby cuts in, seemingly holding back harsher words.

I tense up at the word 'rules', something no one misses.

"One, no one is allowed to harm another Glader, do you understand what that means?" He asks, looking me in the eye, something I was sure was hard due to how awful I had to look.

That rule meant that _Gladers_ were safe from aggression, even among themselves. Although I wasn't sure how that translated to me, _since I_ wasn't _a Glader._

Nevertheless, I nod at his words and he continues.

"Two, we all pitch in to help. Everyone carries their weight around here, no freeloaders. We'll see where you fit in best, try a bit of every job until you find your niche." He tells me.

My _niche_ is up this tree with no one around me, I wanted to retort, but I keep quiet. I nod at his words even while I'm preparing myself for the other shoe to drop.

"And three, no one, and I mean _no one_ , Greenie, is allowed outside those Doors. Do you understand me." He asks, his tone of voice booking no arguments.

 _And there it was._ The Maze was off-limits. Unusual and weird but to each their own, I wasn't eager to get back into a Maze anyway so I just nod and keep watching them silently.

"Now, you're hurt," He doesn't ask," So I'mma going to need you to get down from there."

Like _hell_ I'm going to do that, I may abide by your 'rules' and don't do anything to intentionally antagonize you but _I'm_ not _about to trust you_.

 **I'm not a fool.**

"Leave me alone." I cough again, covering my mouth and pulling myself up on the branch, ready to climb higher if need be.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't ya?" The blond, Newt, smirks up at me, though his eyes are gazing at me with something akin to a mix of understanding and worry.

I go to shrug at his words but end up pulling at the healing cut on my back, I hiss.

 _Oh, not good._

"You're hurting yourself further by staying up there! You have to come down! Look at all that blood!" Clint looks as if he's ready to pull his hair out.

"Clint..." The leader sighs.

"Alby! Look at him! He can't stay there!" Clint points at me.

"Leave me alone." I growl this time.

The others look up at me with exasperation.

"How about a compromise?" The leader asks instead.

 _Compromise..._ A deal?

 **I'm good at making deals.**

I tilt my head to the side, interested, and spy through the corner of my eye the amused look shared between Minho and Newt.

"Okay, so... We'll leave you alone for now," here he ignores the hiss from Clint," but you promise to come down tomorrow and let Clint take a look at you." Alby tries.

"No deal." I shake my head," You leave me alone and I'll promise to not run off again." I compromise,"That's _all_ you're going to get for simply leaving me alone today."

I'm not surprised by the reluctance in their expressions, although they clearly should've expected something like this.

"And to not try and leave the Glade." Alby adds.

I stare at him confused.

"You don't try and go through the Doors." He explains.

"Deal, ain't exactly _urging_ to get eaten by whatever made that sound." I agree.

I see Minho, Newt and the leader crack a small smile at that.

"Good that," Alby nods, then gestures for the others," Let's leave him alone, we can try again tomorrow."

"Alby, but he's hurt!" Clint argues.

"And you think he _won't_ harm himself further if you try to climb after him? Or do you want to try and push him down the tree?" Alby crosses his arms.

Clint doesn't argue further but he does give me a scathing glare as he turns away.

They all leave, some with more reluctant than others, but they all go. Minho even threw me a cheery wave as he left.

I stay alert to see if they decide to stick around and keep an eye one me, but the silence of the forest denies that possibility. I relax against the tree once more, falling asleep with a single thought on my mind:

 _'What a weird bunch of people.'_

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...from some other beginning's end." **\- Seneca**


	2. Chapter 1 - The way to a man's heart

Hello again! I want to thank all the people who read/followed and favorite plus the two people who reviewed, you guys really are awesome.

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 **\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

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 **Chapter 1** \- "The way to a man's heart...

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When I open my eyes again it's because someone snapped a twig at the foot of my tree. Startled, I sit up and hone in on where exactly the sound came from and who caused it.

It's a different boy, none of the ones I'd seen as of yet, grimacing up at me.

"Good hearing, didn't mean to startle you like that." He says.

It's really dark now, the only lights being the moon above us, the torch the boy's carrying and a big fire I can see in the distance. The wind carries the sounds of drums and cheering. I shiver as memories of similar sounds surface in the back of my mind.

"I brought food for you, you must be starving." He smiles when my stomach loudly agrees with his assessment.

I glare at him.

"Come on down, I'll let you eat and then you can clamber back up that tree if ya' still want to. No one needs to know you got down from it at all." He compromises.

Honestly, getting free food for the price of placing my feet on solid ground for a few minutes is not a bad deal, plus my only other option is to tell him to leave me alone and go hungry for another day.

My stomach protests at that, and the hunger pangs grow fierce, _I really want to eat._

"Do you think I'm lying to you?" He frowns.

"'Dunno... I don't... trust." I shrug carefully.

"Clint said you were hurt and I can see that, it's not the best idea to spend the night up there. Ya' might fall." He sighs then," But that's none of my business, I'm Frypan, by the way, the cook of this place and my business is that you eat something."

I roll my eyes at him. _He sounds just like Tie._

I take one look around us to see if no one else is eavesdropping nearby but I neither see or hear anyone else, mostly just the distant cheering coming from the campfire.

"That's the Box Day Feast, in honor of the new Greenie," he points at me," who's currently missing the show by being up a tree." He grins.

"Not interested." I tell him truthfully.

He doesn't say anything else. Just keeps an eye one me as I slowly make my way down from the tree. I'm somewhat stiff from sitting on my bruises all day but still agile enough to hold my one in case it came down to it, in addition I was somewhat recovered from the excitement of this morning.

"Here," Frypan hands me a bowl of something warm,"Eat up. You're far too skinny." He eyes me up and down.

 **Oh, you have no idea.**

I basically inhale the food, it's so good I'm saddened to see the bowl empty, and a bemused Frypan asks me if I want more.

My eyes must've gleamed or something because he only takes the bowl from me with a chuckle and gets up to get more food. I stay on the ground and wait for him to return.

'He might be fetching more guys to catch you while you're distracted,' my mind cautions.

 _'Or he might be the first person in a year to be truthful enough to my face and honestly getting me more food than I've eaten in... Well... a year.'_ I dispel those thoughts.

Frypan returns quickly, this time with an unwanted companion (I make that reasoning because I hear them argue as they approach), Clint the 'Med-jack' from before. He starts walking quickly towards me, and I'm all ready to jump up that tree once more, but stops when Frypan grabs him by the back of his shirt.

"Clint, you take _one more step_ towards the Greenie and I'm telling Alby the reason he didn't eat enough was because _you_ sent him back up that damn tree." He tells him sternly.

Clint stops walking towards me and turns a betrayed look to Frypan but gives up and sighs. He lets Frypan take the lead.

"He's hurt." He points out.

"And he needs to eat first." Frypan argues and hands me another steaming bowl, this one filled with more food than before.

The two sit opposite to me so I can keep an eye on them both and still have space separating us, I realize belatedly they've sat like this exactly so I wouldn't feel threatened.

I try to make this bowl last longer, try to taste each and every bite of food, but my hunger is stronger than my will to appreciate the taste and I finish this bowl just as fast as the last one.

"Jeez, when was the last time you ate?" Frypan wonders in a joking tone

"Three days ago," I answer automatically, my throat feels a lot better now that I drank something hot.

The two guys blink almost simultaneously.

"How do you _know_ that?" Clint asks in a near whisper.

I look confused at his words before I remember they don't know I don't really belong here.

"I haven't eaten in three days. Been... _busy_." I trail off weakly, can't tell them what I've been doing these past three days, _honestly_.

"Busy? For three days? _How do you know that?"_ Frypan's eyebrows are nearly up to his hairline.

"Do you _remember_?" Clint's eyes are wide,"You remember being put in the Box?"

"I don't remember being put there, I woke up in it," I answer," But I know what I was doing _before_ it." I shrug and wince as I pull on the cut again.

Clint notices immediately.

"Okay, he's eaten," He tells Frypan before turning to me," You're pulling off that disgusting shirt right now!" His hands reach out to grab me.

 _ **His hands are on my throat and ...-**_

" _Don't **touch** me._" My voice cracks.

For a moment I feel as if I'm back in the Arena and my lungs are struggling to breathe due to all the ashes in the air.

"Hey, hey... Calm down... It's okay..." Clint hovers in front of me, hands turned upwards in a gesture of surrender, worry plaguing his eyes," Just take deep breaths, breathe, come on..."

"I can breath _just_ _fine_." I snap at him, closing my eyes. My body still shudders, contradicting my words.

Clint and Frypan seems to agree with it.

"You zoned out pretty bad there, stopped breathing for a minute." Clint frowns.

" _Don't get close to me,_ " I tell them,"... I don't..." I gesture vaguely.

Clint's frown deepens but Frypan nods, both sharing a look between themselves.

"Where are you hurt?" Clint asks, kneeling down in front of me, still two or so feet away from me.

"It's just bruises... And a cut." I mumble.

"Where are you hurt, Greenie?" He repeats with a sigh.

"Back," I answer with a groan,"And my chest. I scratched my hands and my arms climbing but those don't hurt." I add.

"Nothing more?" He asks.

"Can't remember anything else." I shake my head.

"Can't remember?" He frowns.

"I woke up in the Box." I huff, _'Again,'_ I add to myself.

The two of them share another look but before they can continue their questioning I hear footsteps approaching and book it back up the tree.

"He can climb fast alright." Clint mutters.

"Shank's nimbler than Dan's goats." Frypan jokes.

They both snicker at that comment.

"I _can_ hear you." I grouch down at them.

They merely smirk at me.

"What are you two doing?" The leader, Alby, asks as soon as he is close enough to have all three of us in his field of view.

"Just feeding the Greenie, starved shank that he is," Frypan shrugs, gesturing with one hand.

I see him focus intently on the gesture before nodding grimly _(really, gesturing in code?)_ before he turns to Clint," And you?"

"Tried to get him to show me his wounds. Didn't work out as planned," He grimaces," He ain't getting out of it that easily, though!" He points at me and I raise an eyebrow in question.

Alby sighs before looking up at me.

"Want to come down and get settled on an _actual_ bed?" He asks.

I shake my head, I was not coming down _that_ easily, unless there was more food involved.

"Leave him be, Alby, he's not bothering anyone by being up there and, technically, he's not breaking any rules right now." Frypan shrugs," I say, let the Greenie come down on his own time. It's not like he's leaving any time soon."

Alby scowls and goes to say something else but stops and nods, clearly having decided on something," _You_ managed to get him down, _you're_ responsible for him tomorrow. Get him clean and dressed in something less... _bloody_. And find a way to make him stick to the ground long enough for him to get the tour, he can climb that damn tree afterwards if he wants to."

Then he leaves.

"Well... Looks like you are going to help me around the kitchen tomorrow." Frypan sighs, looking up at me.

"That sounds _terrible_ ," I deadpan," Being stuck in a place where I'm _surrounded_ by food."

Clint snorts," Oh, yes, terrible."

Frypan shakes his head before waving at me.

"See ya' tomorrow, Greenie, try not to fall off the tree!" He walks away.

Clint follows suit, waving me goodbye.

When they leave and I'm left alone again I am able to hear the Maze changing, a horribly familiar and haunting sound that both frightens me and soothes me.

 **The Maze changing means that another day is over.** _Hearing it from a distance means that I_ live _another day._

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply the smell of the forest, relishing in the ability to do so and not feel the stench of death and decay.

I relax fully against the tree and fall asleep just as quick as last time.

* * *

 **S** omewhere in the Glad **e**

"What did you want to tell me?" Alby asks turning to face the unusually serious Frypan, whose posture is starting to make the others tense.

"He remembers being somewhere before the Box." He answers," I asked him, I was only joking really, when he last ate and he told me he hadn't eaten in three days. That he had been busy."

"Busy with what?" Newt asks, frowning.

"We didn't ask." Clint answers,"We wanted to know how he knew that and he told us he remembers what he was doing before waking up in the Box but has no idea how he even got there." He tells them.

"That's it?" Alby pressed further.

"Kid winced and Clint went all Med-jack on him, scared the hell out of him." Frypan tells them.

"Scared him?" Minho frowned.

"Greenie had a panic attack, he recovered from it quickly, told us not to get too close to him." Clint answered.

"That's not suspicious at all," Gally sneers.

"He's been through something." Frypan guesses.

"How would you know? You talked to him for what? Three minutes?" Gally paced in the room.

"More than _you_ did. Greenie was compliant and fully agreeable to work with us, his only refusal was to come down that tree, which _I_ managed to do when I presented him with food. My guess? The only reason he distrusts us and refuses to come down is because he's overwhelmed." Frypan tells them.

"Overwhelmed? By the situation?" Newt frowns.

Clint shakes his head," No, the _people_. If it's one or two people he probably won't mind coming down and talk so long as you don't make any threatening gestures or movements, keep a bit of distance and don't get out of his line of sight."

"You think he ran because he ran off because of the crowd." Alby nods," So what would you have me do? Let him keep his distance? Tell the others not to talk to him?" He asks.

"Tell them not to _crowd_ _around_ him, if he does get down and start walking around tell them not to approach _unless_ he clearly sees them doing it." Clint answers," I have no doubt in my mind that he won't startle and attack someone accidentally by reacting against a perceived threat."

"You think he's dangerous?" Newt asked, frowning.

"Anyone can be dangerous when they're afraid." Clint sighs," But _something_ tells me he's not someone to be messed with."

"Why's that?" Gally scoffs.

"Frypan is a head taller than him and the kid looks like a strong wind can blow him over, but he _didn't_ cower or flinch away from him. He was always alert ready to spring into action if Frypan tried something." Clint told them," Plus he has a wicked looking knife strapped to his back."

"He has a weapon?" Alby frowns.

"You didn't notice it because it's somewhat hidden by his shirt, I saw it when he climbed the tree back up," Clint nods," Two palms long, thick as a fist made of some kind of whitened stone."

"Sharp?" Newt asks.

"Wouldn't see _me_ try and mess with it." Clint laughs.

"Are we really going to let him walk around with that thing?" Gally questions, turning to their leader," You can't think it's safe to have an _unknown_ Greenie carrying around something like that."

Alby slowly shakes his head and sighs.

"We'll wait and see," He turns to face Frypan," See if you can get him to stay on the ground tomorrow, he's allowed to keep his belongings _other_ than his clothes as long as he does not hurt or attack another Glader." Alby tells him before addressing the room as a whole.

"If he's _responsible_ for his belongings and he _doesn't_ cause any trouble I don't feel the need to antagonize him, he's allowed to keep his things. Tell the others to keep a bit of distance to the Greenie, and keep an eye on him at all times, he's an unknown as of now and I want to know exactly where he is and what he does, everyone understand that?"

Everyone nods, though some show a lot more uneasiness about the whole thing than others.

* * *

I'm _running_ , running faster than I've ever run before, the wind bites against my skin. It's cold. I can see my breath fog up as soon as it leaves my mouth, my feet can't get a proper grip on the ground so I slip and fall.

"Get up!" Someone yells at me.

I look up at them.

Blond hair, cut harzardly close to his scalp and weary blue eyes, so empty that the seem to look straight through you.

 ** _Leaf._**

I raise myself up and stumble to my feet, he grabs my hand and pulls me along. We start running before I can catch my breath.

"How much longer?" I ask between puffs of air.

"Two more hours 'till the Doors close." He tells me.

"We won't make it." I tell him, we're on the opposite direction of the Doors," We're going the wrong way."

"Yes, we are." Leaf nods.

"Then why are we still running this way?! _Leaf, we're gonna get_ locked in _!_ " I argue.

"We either die here or we die back there," He argues back," Which one do you choose?"

"We could _**fight back**_!" I yell at his back.

Suddenly he stops and I nearly run into his back.

"Fight... back?" He asks, uncertain.

"Yes! Leaf, if we could get all the other guys to join us we could beat Obie and his Hunters!" I smile, trying to catch my breath.

"Beat Obie?" Leaf sounds _off_.

"Leaf?" I frown.

His hand has a vice grip on my wrist. **His hand is cold.**

"Leaf, you're scaring me." I try to pull away from his grip.

His head turns to face me so suddenly his neck snaps. His face is missing, like someone cut it cleanly from his skull, now visible poking through the muscle, and my lungs freeze.

" **H** a **V** en' **T** y **O** u **D** on **E** e **N** o **U** gh, **S** -..." It asks me.

* * *

I startle awake. _Violently._ Falling down from the tree wasn't pleasant but at least I didn't scream. I had that habit quite _literally_ kicked out of me the first few months in the Arena.

 **You don't scream, ever. Screams only attract them. If you scream, you die.**

I feel something wet fall down my face and I touch it. I pull my fingers away to see them sticky with blood.

 _Fantastic._

I get back on my feet slowly, nervous energy still running through my veins and I feel sick to my stomach.

 _My nightmare hasn't been forgotten either._

I lean against the tree, not really feeling like climbing it back up and I look up at the sky with tired eyes.

The sun is barely peeking over the walls, it's near dawn but not quite there yet, _way too early_ in the morning to be awake.

Or so I think.

I hear a twig being snapped under someone's foot and the sound makes me groan inwardly, I was not ready to deal with people right now.

"Oh, you're awake." It's Frypan, god bless for small mercies,"Good, I was worried I had to wake yo-... Is that blood falling down your face?" He asks instead.

I poke at my head again, still bleeding. I grimace.

"You fell off the tree, didn't you." Frypan facepalms.

"When I woke up," I tell him," No idea where I was. Freaked out." I add.

"No kidding, shank," He shakes his head," C'mon, you're overdue a shower and I have some clean clothes for you to change into that I managed to find last night."

He starts walking out of the forest, evidently expecting me to follow.

 _'The leader guy did say he was responsible for me today,'_ I think back on what happened last night, _' And we're going to the kitchens later... food.'_

I follow after him on silent feet, something he's quick to take notice of and seems vaguely disturbed by it. _I can't think of a reason why that might be, though._

Frypan leads me across their Arena, which they refer to as 'The Glade', and towards a long construct a little ways away from their communal sleeping area. Once we reach inside I'm promptly shooed inside.

"Wash properly! I don't wanna see one hint of dirt on you or you're not getting into my kitchen!" He yells.

I turn to see rows of shower heads.

"What about clothes?" I ask him.

"I have them right here, shower and then I'll hand them to you. If ya' take them inside they're only going to get wet, shank." Frypan tells me.

"What does that mean? Shank? You've been calling me that since yesterday." I grumble.

"Glade slang, you'll catch on pretty quick, shank means dude, guy, you get it?" He answers with a laugh.

"I get it." I nod.

I turn the water on and I am gobsmacked to see it's running hot.

"It's _hot_ water." I voice aloud in wonderment.

"...Yeah... Didn't remember what that felt like?" Frypan asks quietly.

" _Can't_ remember the last time I've felt hot water." I answer.

 **It feels divine.** My bruises and wounds certainly appreciate it. Although it stings when the water touches the cuts I have and I am disgusted to see the amount of caked blood I had on me.

"How the hell did I **not** scare anyone to death yesterday?" I ask myself, when I keep scrubbing more and more blood out of my hair and body.

I hear Frypan burst out laughing outside.

 _Shoot, must've talked louder than I realized._

"No kidding, shank! Clint would not stop pestering me about you all night, you scared the klunk out of him." Frypan told me," Alby and Newt were scared too, though they didn't show it as much."

"How can you say their names so _easily_?" I ask all of a sudden.

There's a beat of silence for a moment.

"...What?" Frypan asks, confused.

"All of yesterday you introduced yourselves by name with no hesitation, how do you do that?" I ask, perplexed.

"... Isn't that what names are for? To have something others to call you by?" Frypan asks.

"No." I answer immediately," Your name is your identity, it's who you are, the only thing you have that no one can take away from you. _You don't just give it away!_ No one else can have your name unless you give it to them first." I explain.

Frypan is silent for a few moments longer, I scrub the last hints of blood off my hair (though I suspect my head wound is going to start bleeding sooner or later) and turn to wash my body and feet. Those don't look so bad, considering, but I stare at the scar on my tight.

 **That one was done by a Beast.**

I have a similar one on my back, right beneath my right shoulder blade, didn't dodge fast enough. All across my back I have a multitude of other cuts and burns from similar incidents with a different type of foe.

"Is that why you won't say your name?" Frypan breaks the silence.

" **I only give my name to those I trust.** " I answer," And the others all did the same with me."

"Where are they now?" I can imagine him frowning.

"Dead." I answer.

My voice sounds hollow and I can only hear the sound of the water spray hitting the floor.

"I'm sorry." Frypan murmurs.

I remain quiet the rest of the shower.

When I poke my head out of the door, Frypan startles and stares at me like he's never seen me before _(and I guess he hasn't)_ before he hands me a towel to dry myself with.

"You're young." He says.

"Seventeen," I grouch," Not _that_ young."

"You look young." He states.

"Not you too..." I grumble.

"Friend give you hell for it?" He's smirking.

"Like you wouldn't _believe_." I mutter.

Tie certainly loved making fun of my looks, pinching my cheeks and making cooing sounds whenever I did something correctly.

"Seems like a nice guy." Frypan chuckles.

"You'd have gotten along like a house on fire..." I sigh.

I poke my head out again when I'm dry and I point at he clothes with a glare.

Frypan smirks but stops when he sees my shoulder.

 _...I'd forgotten about that one._

"That looks pretty bad..." His eyes are shadowed.

I look at my shoulder, it's an ugly burn mark that spans all over my shoulder and across my upper arm. One of Obie's Hunters had done that one, the week I woke up on the Box.

"Doesn't hurt," I answer, _'not anymore'_ ,"I've had worse."

Frypan hands me the clean clothes and the way he frowns when he stares at me tells me that he believes me.

The clothes smell nice and fit surprisingly well, despite me being iffy about the thin material. Although I was glad for it all the same, the weather here _was_ hotter than I was used to and I had spent all of yesterday in the shade. The pant legs were slightly shorter than they should be but I could ignore that. I put on the same shoes I was wearing and I quickly hid all my weapons on my person again, plus my own harness and dagger.

I walk out of the shower room with my dirt clothes folded on my arms, which Frypan indicates where I put them so they can be washed, even if both of us knew they wouldn't be able to get that much blood out of them.

He then looks at me up and down before grinning.

"You look a shuck ton less scarier like this." He tells me.

"Oh no, let me change back, I have an image to maintain," I deadpan with a huff.

"You're feeling better?" He asks, looking at my head where a bump and a bruise are beginning to form.

"My throat doesn't hurt as much," I answer," Where are we going now?"

"To my workplace, gotta start preparing breakfast for when the others wake up." He answers me," And you are going to help me."

" _Eat?_ You bet I am." I crack a small smile.

Frypan burst out laughing once more.

I walk two steps away from him, distant enough to have a second or so head start if I need to run away quickly, but somehow it feels a lot closer than we really are.

* * *

... Is through his stomach." \- English Proverb


	3. Chapter 2 - A name pronounced

And we are back with another chapter! Hope you all enjoyed the previous one!

Thank you to all those who've read the story!

* * *

 **\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 -** "A name pronounced is the recognition of the individual to whom it belongs...

* * *

Frypan is teaching me how to correctly make scrambled eggs when Alby walks in with the blond from yesterday, Newt his name was, the sight of me causes both of them to pause and stare.

"What? Don't like what you see?" Frypan grins," Old Frypan here managed to tame the wild beast!" He jokes.

"Not _likely_ ," I retort, placing the finished eggs on a plate," You're welcome _I'm_ being this nice, is all."

Frypan turns to me and puts his hands on his hips," Oh, so you don't wanna learn how to cook bacon?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

I frown at him,"I never said that."

Frypan grins again," Then I have tamed the beast." He points to the bowl beside me where there's still more eggs to scramble.

"Certainly looks better than yesterday." The blond grins walking up to us.

I eye him warily as he steps closer to us, something no one misses, and his smile slips slightly. "How did ya' sleep?" He asks.

"Fine," I answer. "He fell off the tree." Frypan replies at the same time.

I hiss at him," I fell when I woke up. I _slept_ fine." I tell him tersely.

"But you still fell, Greenie." He shrugs.

I roll my eyes," You're insufferable."

"Glad to see you're settling in," Alby, the leader, nods at me. I shrug at his words, doesn't really _feel like_ I'm settling in, if I'm gonna get _food_ for restraining my desire to flee back up that tree for a few hours then I'm gonna do it.

 **As long as someone doesn't invade my personal bubble and sends my instincts haywire.**

"Kitchen is quiet. Only the cook is here." I point at Frypan.

"Ah, his name is...-" Newt goes to tell me but Frypan waves him off.

"Frypan is a nickname, not my actual name, it's safe for you to say it," He tells me.

I frown, looking at Alby and Newt to see their reaction, they are both frowning not understanding the subtext to the conversation but I can clearly see no lie in their eyes.

 **Frypan is a nickname.**

"Then it's nice to meet you, Frypan." I nod.

He grins at me," No problem, Greenie."

"What the bloody hell just happen?" The blond blinks.

"Greenie here doesn't say names," Frypan gestures," It's against his code, he won't tell you his and he's not bothered if you don't tell him yours. Actually, he _expects_ you not to introduce yourself with it." He explains.

"Why?" Alby asks.

"Names belong only to you, not anyone else. **It's the one thing no one can take away from you.** " I answer," To give someone your name is _supposed_ to be the biggest show of trust there is... I don't understand how you can say them so easily."

Both of them look fairly out of their depth but I can see the cogs turnings from behind their eyes.

"So if I ask ya' to call me Newt." The blond begins.

"I won't utter it." I answer immediately.

"Even if I ask you to?" He wonders.

"Even if you ask me to." I nod.

"Then what do we call you?" He smirks.

"I'm being called Greenie right now, doesn't bother me none." I shrug.

"That's a first." He laughs.

"Why? It just means I'm new here." I frown.

"Fry, have you been teaching him Glader slang?" Newt turns to Frypan.

"I only told him what shank meant, _that_ one was bothering him." Frypan answers.

He went to say something more but the doors of the mess hall being opened and sleepy people walking in stops all conversation.

 **Too many people.**

I freeze like a deer on headlights and turn to Frypan, eyes pleading.

He sees me and motions with his head to the kitchen, "When I ask you for something all you gotta do us hand it to me, no one needs to see you here up front."

I nod quickly and all but run towards the kitchen.

"He really doesn't like crowds, does he?" I hear Newt ask Frypan.

"No, he sure as hell wasn't getting close to the feast last night. I told you, he was scared enough to see _Clint_ show up with me that he nearly climbed that tree back up." Frypan shakes his head in the negative.

"But you got him down with food." I can picture the blond's smirk as he says those words.

"Yup," Frypan nods," Same way I got him to follow me and shower, promised to bring him here for work but both of us knew he was going to get more to eat."

"Huh... Guess after having starved for three days he sure as hell isn't going to bite the hand that feeds him, no matter who that hand belongs to." He tells the cook," He said anything else about where he came from?"

"No, but I saw enough that I can put a couple strings together." Frypan leans in and whispers quietly to the two of them.

I feel bad for being eavesdropping on Frypan, the guy's nice, but knowing they are talking behind _my_ back somewhat eases that feeling. I'm the topic of conversation, I have every right to hear this.

"He looks like he's been through hell," Frypan tells them," Scars _everywhere_ , not tiny ones either, his back looks like it's been mangled. And he _is_ hurt, big cut running all the way down his spine, isn't bleeding anymore at least."

I frown when I hear that, can't believe I didn't notice him spying on me as I showered, I'd have to keep an eye peeled next time I'm in there.

 _Just to be safe._

"Did he say anything about them?" Alby asks.

"No, as far as he knows I only saw the one on his shoulder," Frypan shakes his head," Told me he had been through a lot worse than that one... From what I've seen, I'm tempted to believe him."

"Thank you for keeping an eye on him, Fry." Alby nods.

"No problem, Greenie is kind of growing on me. Doesn't mind learning how to cook so long as he can eat something." Frypan shrugs," Seems to me he won't mind pitchin' in as long as no one pressures him too much about names and personal space."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alby nods, then takes notice of the growing line of people waiting to eat and takes a plate before moving along, Newt joining him soon after.

"Hey, Greenie, pass me the green peppers!" Frypan calls out.

I know what those are already so I quickly grab them and pass them out. I see a few curious people strain to catch a glimpse of me but Fry quickly shoos them off.

 _Thank god for that!_

"Who are you?" A voice asks from the kitchen door.

I turn around to see a meek teen, reddish hair and a rather big nose frowning at me.

I point at myself," Greenie, helping Frypan with cooking, too many people so I'll stay here and pass ingredients out."

The boy blinks before walking past me _(too close!)_ and goes to Fry. After a few hushed words ("There's a weird kid in the kitchen", "That's Greenie, he's helping", "Seriously?", "Yes, now take over the eggs!") everything continues to go smoothly.

And before long breakfast is over and Alby is knocking on the door and telling me he's going to give me the tour around the Glade now.

* * *

We're walking around the Glade, it looks so much like what the Arena would look like if it hadn't all gone to hell, and everyone we pass by kind of just stops and stares as we walk by. Their stares are unnerving, my skin itches under their gazes and there's a pressure in my chest that twists more and more as I continue to walk around and not hide somewhere.

I hope this 'tour' is near its end 'cuz my tree is looking more and more appealing with it passing minute.

"The stares will die down when they get used to you," Alby tells me," You're new, it's _normal_."

"Thanks but that doesn't exactly make it better." I scratch the back of my head.

"Not used to this many people?" He asks.

"Never actually _seen_ this many people," I correct him.

"Never?" He blinks.

I nod absently," There weren't that many of us from where I'm from. At most there were like... twenty odd people." I explain," But we never really saw each other constantly, at most I met fifteen of those twenty."

"Where was this?" He's suddenly very interested.

 _'Huh,_ that's _not suspicious at all,'_ I roll my eyes inwardly.

"I can't tell you the exact location, I have no idea where it actually is, I just woke up there one day." I tell him," The first time I woke up in a Box."

"You woke up in a Box before you were sent here?" Alby frowns.

"Yeah, I'm from a place just like this, 'cept... This place, the Glade as you call it, couldn't be anymore different than my Arena." I sigh.

"Different how?" He questions.

"There wasn't a community, for a start, not enough food either. It was cold," I think back on the Arena," Couldn't breathe properly, ground was... a _mess_. **Always running.** " The last part escapes my lips before I shake my head to dispel the memories.

"Running?" Alby focuses on me.

"Yeah... You could never stop running." I bring my arms close to my chest," If you did you'd die."

Alby looks like he wants to question further but stops and really looks at me. I can feel my ears start ringing faintly, my head is feeling kind of fuzzy and there's this cold ball of lead in my stomach.

"...Okay, don't push yourself. We can continue this later, go back to Frypan or your tree." Alby tells me, turning around and walking away from me.

I don't need to be told twice, I book it out of the open space and into the forest once more. The higher ground and the cold air of the shade makes me feel better. I lean against the tree trunk and close my eyes.

 **Breathe in. _Hold it._ Breathe out.**

 _Repeat._

 **Once. Twice. _Again._**

 _You can't panic. You can't scream. Just_ keep _breathing._

"Hey, are ya' alright?" The blond, Newt, asks from below me.

I open my eyes and look down on him, he's leaning against the tree and I can see worry line his expression. The sky is darker now, surprising me, I must've been here longer than I anticipated.

"I'm fine." I answer him.

"You've missed lunch," He smiles slightly," Frypan wanted me to pass along this:' You get your shucking ass back in my kitchen now or I will tell the Builders to cut down that shucking tree.'"

"Shucking?" I echoed, frowning," Seriously?"

Newt just laughed," That's all your going to take from that conversation?"

I huffed, letting my head thunk against the tree.

"You're weird. All of you." I mumble, louder I told him," I'll come down in a bit. Are there too many people still walking around?"

"This is the Glade, there's always people walking around." Newt tells me.

"Not here." I tell him.

"Alby told everyone to stay clear of here until you've adjusted." Newt explained," Else you'd be seeing shanks running around trying to get a glimpse of you."

"The horror..." I deadpan.

"You're not good with people, are ya'?" Newt chuckles.

"What gave me away? Was it the blistering glares, my amazing social skills or the fact I ran away from you the moment my feet touched ground?" I shook my head.

Newt laughs," You didn't ran from Frypan."

"He brought me food, it's _different_." I shrug.

"I have this right here, I'll give it to you if ya' come down?" I raises his hand, a red circular something in it.

I stare at his hand, trying to decipher what that something is. The name is at the tip of my tongue, I _recognize_ it. At least, I _think_ I do...

"What _is_ that?" I ask, frowning.

Newt startles, blinking several times before answering a quiet," It's an apple."

 **Apple.** Yeah, that word sounds familiar. _It's a fruit._

 ** _'It's delicious'_** , a foreign thought bubbles inside of me. _The ghost flavor of something sweet hit my tongue._

I quickly got down from the tree and stood two or so feet away from the blond and reached out for the apple.

He hands it to me mechanically, like he can't believe I actually got down from the tree just like that. Truth is I can't really understand it either, normally I wouldn't have been so easily manipulated to obey certain orders or requests, but I felt like I was somehow enchanted.

I didn't remember ever seeing an apple before but I automatically knew what it tasted like.

 **Sweet.**

 _I don't recall eating anything sweet._

"Frypan is going to get angry at me for giving you that before you've eaten lunch," He sighs to himself, exasperated.

"I can still eat lunch," I tell him between mouthfuls.

"Are you ever full?" He grinned slightly.

"Can't remember if I ever have." I answered truthfully.

"Never?" He frowned.

I shook my head," _There was never enough food._ We looked for it and traded for what little existed, but there _was never_ enough food."

"That's why you're so skinny." He crossed his arms.

I remained silent, I'd been worse a few months ago.

"Ready to go meet Frypan?" He asked when I finished the fruit.

"Sure," I nod.

"What sent you running up that tree this time? Alby mentioned you looked a bit out of it," Newt asked as we walked towards the mess hall, not quite side by side but close enough we didn't have to speak loudly to be heard.

"He asked a question and I kind of got lost on my memories," I told him," It was... _difficult_."

"How so?" Newt asked.

"I _still_ can't believe I'm here, feels like I'm about to open my eyes and find that this has all just been a fever dream." I answered," Can't say which one would be worse."

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Finding myself back where I was or this being real." I tugged at the neck of my shirt, it's hot under the sunlight.

"Don't you like it here?" He turns to face me.

"It's _different_." I tell him.

I don't offer anything more, really that is all that I can say. **This is different.**

Different from everything I know and that is both frightening and unbearably joyous. This place... is like those dreams Leaf and Tie would have, the kind of place Ell would constantly chatter about.

 _And it kills me to know they will never discover that those places truly existed._

"You have a sad look in your eyes," Newt's voice is barely audible but it still brings me out of my darkening thoughts.

I blink at him," Did I?"

He nods silently,"I have seen that look in the eyes of many people, but never on a Greenie before."

" _I'm not like the others,_ " I tell him," But you know that."

He nods again," Just wish I could understand what that means."

"What means what?" I ask him, nearing the kitchen door.

"What your presence _here_ means for _us_." He answers before leaving me alone, standing at the door.

I stare at his back as he goes away, mind in a turmoil, and chew on my lip.

' _Neither do I,_ ' I secretly whisper in my mind.

* * *

Frypan isn't overly amused by my disappearance but he brushes it off, he probably knew he was kind of expecting too much of me to keep to a straight schedule or behavior right away. He gives me a plate of food before instructing me to wash my hands properly and then teaching me how to peel potatoes and cut them safely.

It's interesting, if mind numbingly boring work, but I appreciate it. There were more people in the kitchen than the last time I was here, Frypan didn't try to introduce me and just told me they worked under him, which were giving me subtle glances.

Frypan seemed to have warned them against crowding me since every time they walked past me they made sure to keep their distance and walk slower as if to not startle me. There was a flutter of something akin to gratitude in my chest every time I saw them doing it.

Plus, Frypan's slight nods at seeing this made their expressions brighten.

 _'They look like puppies seeking praise,'_ I think to myself.

"Frypan, is the Greenbean here?" I hear someone ask outside of the kitchen.

I turn to face the door but don't walk towards it or open it, instead I watch as Frypan sighs and goes to open it.

"What does he want now..." He mutters under his breath.

"Frypan!" The person calls out.

Wait... That voice is familiar... _Kind_ _of._

"Wait a minute, Gally!" Frypan yells back before he reaches the door and opens it slightly, keeping me out of sight. Unnecessary since I got up and place myself in shadows of the kitchen. Even if the guy entered he wouldn't be able to see me unless he tried really hard.

As I stealthily hide in the shadows I see the other Cooks give me wide eyed stares, apparently my stealth is unusual.

"What do you want, Gally?" Frypan asks immediately after opening the door.

"The shank's in there isn't he?" He asks instead.

"Why do you need to know that?" The cook grumbles.

"Winston's told me he hasn't seen hide or hair of the Greenie all day, meaning he hasn't started helping around." Gally tells him.

"Again, Gally, why should that concern you?" Frypan sighs.

"We have rules here, Frypan!" Gally yells.

"As far as I know Greenbean hasn't broken any rules yet." Frypan calmly interjects.

"Everyone pitches in, no freeloaders!" Gally rants.

"He's been helping me in the kitchen, he's not slacking." Frypan shakes his head.

"All Greenies start with the Slicers, every single one!" Gally told him.

"And this one started with me and he can stay working here for as long as he wants, Gally! He's _helping_ , he's _working_ , what the shuck more do you want him to do?" Frypan yelled back in his face, exasperated and quite a bit angry.

 _Why is he angry?_

Gally is quiet for a moment before he sneers,"That's not your decision to make."

He then walks away, his footsteps retreating. I walk out of the shadows before I go still, catching a glimpse of Frypan's expression.

It's thunderous, his grip on the poor fitting wooden door is crushing, and his eyes glint with intent. I do not walk one step closer to him, despite my liking for the guy, as I'd learned that keeping a safe distance, in times like these, was the best choice to make.

"Stay in the kitchen," He tells us, I'm unsure if it was meant only for me or for all of us, and we nod almost simultaneously before he leaves, slamming the door closed.

"That was intense..." One of the cooks whispers.

"I have never seen Frypan that angry, not even when _Adam_ burnt his food," Another whispers back.

"Hey... That was an accident!" The last guy, Adam apparently, yelped.

I remain silent, returning to where I was and resuming peeling potatoes. Regardless of what was settled, because I was certain something was about to happen, I had been given a chore and I was going to complete it.

 _Frypan made excellent food._

* * *

"Alby, you can't be serious!" Frypan couldn't believe it.

"My decision stands, Fry, every new Glader goes through this,"The leader sighed,"I know you don't mind having him around the kitchen but he has to try out for the other roles here in the Glade."

"He doesn't know anybody else here in the Glade other than Clint! And he cannot work as a Med-jack when he won't even let anyone near him!" Frypan argued," You're going to toss him in the direction of a stranger who won't get why he doesn't say their names!"

"Every Glader-...!" Alby starts to say before he's interrupted.

" _He's not like every Glader!_ No one else showed up covered head to toe in blood! No one else remembers anything before the Box! No one else is _terrified_ of another human being walking in their direction!" Frypan screams in frustration.

"Frypan!" Alby cuts him off," My decision is final, he is to present himself to Winston tomorrow to learn with the Slicers, do I make myself clear?" He sternly asks.

But it's not really a question, Frypan can see that, so he has no other choice than to nod.

Gally's smirk only makes this whole situation all the more unbearable.

* * *

"Hey, walk with me." Frypan gestures to me as he finishes closing down the kitchen for the night. Dinner was over and everyone had dispersed and headed for the communal building they all slept in, just like I was headed back to my tree branch.

"Okay," I wait for him to finish up and let him lead the way, I was expecting him to mention what had made him so upset earlier when he returned to the kitchen, guess I was finding out now.

We're headed for the forest so I presume he's leading me to my tree.

"Remember when Alby told you the three rules?" He begins.

"Yes," I nod," Is this about them? Have I broken one unknowingly?"

"No," Frypan seems tense, which in turn makes me antsy,"But usually Greenies spend the first two weeks discovering where they fit in," He explains.

"And I'm guessing I've broken tradition." I sigh, _I was expecting this._ This whole 'you're free to do whatever unless you break the rules' was too good to be true.

"Greenies usually start with the Slicers and then move to the other roles, you, however, kind of stuck with me and, if I ask to answer me honestly, don't really show any signs of wanting that to stop."

"I don't mind helping around the kitchen so long as I can eat." I nod again," The guy from before... he did something, didn't he?"

"Gally, he went to Alby and told him it was favoritism to allow you to simply remain in the kitchens while everyone else had to do two weeks worth of 'learning' with the other jobs." Frypan explains.

"Stubbs," I interject.

Frypan blinks.

"I'll call him Stubbs." I tell him," I don't think I like him very much, so I think the name fits."

"Who? Gally?" Frypan queries.

"Yes," I nod.

"Why Stubbs?" Frypan smirks.

"It comes from Stub, which is a noun meaning a stumpy end," I recite,"Stumpy means short and thick or squat." I add.

Frypan starts cracking up.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" He laughs," Stubbs!"

I crack a small smirk at seeing him laugh like this. Ell had a laughter similar to his, loud, uncaring of how many times we told him to keep it down, and free.

Even if Frypan still acted a lot more like Tie than Ell.

"So what's happening tomorrow?" I ask him," You came back upset, that tells me the decision wasn't made in your favor."

His laugh tapers off, even if one or two chuckles still escape him.

"You have to go meet Winston tomorrow, Keeper of the Slicers, all Greenies start there." Frypan answers me," I'll ask Newt or Jim to take you to him."

I nod, resigned," This _isn't_ going to end well for me, is it?" I ask him quietly.

Frypan turns to me.

"Why do you say that?" He asks.

 _'Because this is just the start,'_ I reply in my head.

"Gut feeling." I tell him instead.

 **Tomorrow would be just the beginning...**

* * *

...He who can pronounce my name aright, he can call me, and is entitled to my love and service." \- Henry David Thoreau


	4. Chapter 3 - Guilt alone

And here we are with another chapter! Thank you to all the ones who've read and followed the story. You are amazing!

* * *

 **\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 3 -** "Guilt alone, like brain-sick frenzy in its feverish mood,...

* * *

When I open my eyes then next morning there's a centipede-like bug on my leg that I recognize as being from my Arena and I freeze completely. I still have the scar on the palm of my hand from where I, stupidly, tried to grab one.

Ell had a blast mocking me while Tie patched me up and Leaf snickered while keeping watch over the door.

"Could I _assume_ that you will not kill me if I ask you, _pretty please_ , to get away from me?" I ask it, very calmly, something I didn't really feel like.

Its translucent shell, with it being so close and all, allowed me to see all the mechanical wiring and machinery inside it. Its eye glowed bright red and there was something stamped right on top of it, and I focused on the letters and tried to read them.

"W.I.C.K.E.D?" I read aloud," _That_ doesn't sound ominous at all!" I deadpan.

The bug makes some sort of buzzing and I hiss at it, "Go away!"

Surprisingly it does, disappearing back to where it came from. I quickly get down from the tree and shake my clothes loose, making sure there's no other bug sticking on me, before I look up at the still dark sky.

"It's still too early, no one is going to be awake," I say to myself.

 _'Perfect,'_ Is my first thought.

I quickly stretch my muscles before breaking into a slow run round the Glade, Frypan rose with the sun and there's still an hour or two for that to happen, I can exercise without anyone seeing me _(or me seeing anyone)_ and then wait by the kitchen for Frypan.

As Alby told me yesterday the forest I am currently sleeping in is called the Deadheads _(apparently there's a graveyard not too far from my tree, that's not creepy at all right?)_ and as I leave it I enter the area he called Homestead.

That's where most of the Gladers sleep, though some also slept in the Gardens past the Homestead. Past the Gardens we have the Bloodhouse, which is where I will be going today apparently.

I run for an hour and a half before I stretch again and stop by a sandpit. This I didn't know the name of or if they were any rules pertaining it solely but, I figured, no one was here to see, no one needs to know, right?

I walked to the center of it and took out my dagger from its harness, it's weight was comforting in my hand. I closed my eyes and focused my breathing.

In my mind's eye I imagined Leaf staring in front of me, a similar dagger in his hand, with a cocky grin on his face.

 _'Are you ready to get your ass whopped, Cricket?'_ He'd always say.

I smirk in response to the imaginary words and I open my eyes.

I lunge at an invisible opponent, dodging a stab from my right by twisting out of the way, the sand makes it hard for me to do my twists and turns but I only grin in anticipation.

 **I love a good challenge.**

 _'Idiot,'_ Tie sighs, _' You're going to get in trouble with that attitude of yours!'_

 _'Leave him be, Tie!_ ' Ell crackles from where he's sitting on the sidelines, _' I like his spunk!'_

 _'You would, Crackling...'_ Tie shook his head in bemusement.

I dodge another lunge kicking out with my leg so my opponent stumbles, he dodges of course, Leaf is too good for me to trip that easily, and capitalizes my slightly unbalances state to try for another stab.

I drop to the ground and roll out of the way, jumping up and twisting out of the way of an incoming punch, I elbow his arm and delivers an uppercut with my other hand before pushing him.

Unbalanced in the shifty sand I finally stab my opponent.

 _'Point,'_ I can almost hear him say with a grin, _' Next time won't be so easy, Cricket.'_

I give a breathy laugh, enjoying the adrenaline coursing through me and return to my starting point before lunging again.

I go through the motions of our spars for longer than I probably should've since I'm startled out of my trance by applause.

Restraint, honed after years of having Ell jump on me at random intervals, is the _only_ thing that keeps me from throwing my dagger against the source of the applause.

I turn to see a small crowd of people staring at me gobsmacked.

 _Oh, hell..._ **How didn't I hear them approach?**

I recognize Frypan, who's clearly amused by this situation, beside Newt and Alby but all the other four faces are unknown to me.

"You notice us watching you, Greenie?" Frypan grins.

I'm still breathing deeply from my sparring so all I can give him is a reluctant shake of my head.

His grin widens," Beating yourself up?"

I glare at him without much heat, which only makes him chuckle.

"You hungry?" He asks.

I perk up, holstering my dagger again," You need help?" I ask.

"Sure, c'mon," He gestures me to follow him," These shanks need to go to work too."

Newt turns back to Frypan," I could help you in the kitchens."

Frypan gives him a _look_ ," I think Greenie and I can handle ourselves until Adam and Jim arrive."

"No, Pots?" I ask Frypan, quickly walking towards him.

"Pots?" Frypan ask, lips tugging into a grin.

"Brown hair, cut short, brown eyes... He was wearing a green shirt yesterday," I think back on the guy from yesterday," He was kind of short."

"Aah," Frypan hums," That's Alec, today's his day off." He explains.

"Pots?" Newt asks, amused.

"Greenie doesn't say names, remember?" Frypan smirks," So he has to create something to call people by when referring to someone specific, I only get away from it 'cuz I already have my own nickname," He explains.

"Ah, what's my nickname then, Greenie?" Newt asks as he turns to me.

I blink at his words, honestly I hadn't thought about it, reason I named this Alec 'Pots' was because he was busy muttering about dirty pots yesterday when I looked at him.

I thought about Newt for a moment, what I knew of him and what I had observed so far, before humming.

" **Robin.** " I tell him.

The group collectively blinks.

"Robin?" He sounds confused.

"It's a bird." I offer no other explanation.

"Why Robin?" He asks.

I mull over my thoughts for an answer.

"The robin bird has a cheery tune, and so far you seem like a cheery person," I shrug, not really feeling comfortable getting into a discussion about how I felt 'Robin' to fit him the best. It was mostly a _gut feeling_.

 _Thankfully he seems satisfied with my answer._

"I like that, don't really mind you calling me 'Robin'," He shrugs," _Could be a lot worse._ "

Frypan chooses that moment to start cracking up.

I edge away from him and start walking towards the kitchens.

"Like Stubbs!" He informs them before continue laughing.

"Stubbs?" Newt's smile stretches wider.

I try to make a quick getaway but Alby stops me.

"Everyone has a nickname where you're from, correct?" He asks me.

I turn back to face him, "Yeah, everyone had one."

"What yours?" He keeps his grin off his face but his tone belies it.

I sigh," I was named Cricket." I tell them," Leaf picked my name."

The Gladers smile at the name.

"Cricket?" Newt smiles," That's cute."

I turn red at his words. **Damn Leaf.**

"It's _not_ cute!" I deny.

They don't believe me, I can see in the way their whole bodies exude bemused energy. I scoff at them and resume walking away.

"Who's called Stubbs, anyway?" I hear someone ask and I quickly book it out of there before I hear Frypan answer.

Unfortunately I heard their laughter soon after that, which meant that Gally would learn he has a nickname he might not appreciate and perhaps a few people willing to use it.

"So, Cricket," Frypan's smirk widens as he uses the nickname," What do you say about learning how to make an omelet?"

"I'll go wash my hands." I answer him.

"Good answer!" He laughs.

 _I like that sound._

* * *

"So, you're the new Greenie?" The boy in front of my raises an eyebrow after looking me up and down.

I'm not too bothered by it as I'm doing the exact same, warm brown skin, dark hair and eyes, big nose. He's wearing a reddish-orange shirt and scuffed pants, light shoes.

I'm curious about what he sees of me, we're about the same height _(maybe I'm a tad shorter)_ and my skin is just a tiny bit lighter than his with green eyes, my hair is dark, not quite black but not exactly brown either, and I have a small upturned nose.

Ell loved describing people and writing them down on paper, and he'd often describe someone more than once if you held still long enough for him to see you properly.

"Heck of a first day wasn't it, Greenie?" He asks.

I remain silent, mostly because I _don't_ know what would be considered a correct answer and also because it didn't feel like a question I was supposed to answer to.

"C'mon, lets see if your squeamish around us Slicers." He tells me as he enters the big barn we're in front of.

Inside I can hear all sort of animal sounds, some I recognize and others I don't.

"Have you ever handled a knife before?" He asks.

"Yes." I answer.

"We'll see about that, Greenie." He shakes his head.

 _'If you were going to say that either way, why ask?'_ I grumbled in my head, I don't think I liked this guy.

He takes me to a room where there's knives lined up and ready to be used on a blood covered table. I don't bat an eye on it though I'm vaguely uncomfortable with the way the guy's eyes trace my reaction.

 _'Was this some sort of test? To see if I'd flinch away from blood?'_ I ask myself, _' Well, if it is... I just failed it miserably.'_

"I'm going to show you how to skin a rabbit, Frypan asked me for that to be used for dinner," He informs me,"I expect you to, as I've become aware of your liking for our cook, make it clean and simple."

 _Okay... I don't think he likes me that much either._

He doesn't tell me anything else, just leaves the room (and goddamnit did he really have to pass me that closely) and leaves me alone with the knives.

An instinct of mine is to take one or two and hide them but I squash that down. In the Arena things would always go missing unless you always carried them with you, like Tie and his treasures or hid them carefully like Ell and his bulky possessions, but this wasn't the Arena.

If I took something they'd notice it missing and that would lead to trouble. I don't feel much about causing trouble, I'm beginning to see a certain... _charm?_ to the Glade.

 _More so since I obviously_ don't _belong here._

The guy returns a minute later with a caged rabbit, placing the cage on the table and expertly grabbing it out of it in a single motion.

 _He's done this before._ **A _lot_.**

"So, Greenie," He looks me in the eye," _**Watch and learn.**_ "

 _And he snaps the neck of the rabbit._

...

 _'This is going to be a long day,'_ I sigh when I detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes when I do not flinch.

* * *

"Let me hide here?" I plead with Frypan.

"Don't like the Bloodhouse?" He smirks.

"Mouse keeps trying to scare me but it's getting so boring!" I inform him, _(not whine mind you)_ , in a bored tone of voice,"All he does is hack apart animals, how is _that_ supposed to scare me?"

Frypan is silent at that and his eyes grow saddened.

"It's only for a day," He tries to cheer me up.

I groan.

"A day too long!" I tell him.

"Don't like the Slicers?" Jim asks me, one of the Cooks under Frypan.

"Boring work, I much prefer it here." I tell him.

"That's because you can eat anything you lay your eyes on in here." Adam chuckles.

"A man after my own heart." I deadpan.

The other guy doubles over laughing.

"You and Minho would get along so well!" He laughs.

"True!" Adam turns to him," Maybe when he gets back for dinner we can introduce the two."

"Slim it." Frypan quietens them," Cricket can meet people in his own time."

"Cricket?" Both cooks asks him.

"Well, we can't keep calling him Greenie when the next one shows up, and this shank won't tell us his actual name." Fry smirks," Besides, Cricket was how he was called before coming here."

The other two nod with smiles.

"It's a cute nickname." Jim says.

"It's not cute!" I yelp, hitting the flat of my hand on the nearest table," Leaf named me that because I was silent the first two months I arrived in the Arena!"

"Silent?" Frypan questions.

"...I..." I frown," The Arena isn't a _nice_ place." I tell him," And it scared me at first, so I didn't speak to anyone. Then Leaf basically dragged me to where he lived and introduced me as Cricket to the others. It was supposed to be temporary but it... _It stuck_."

"Leaf and the others... They were your friends?" Frypan asks in a solemn tone of voice.

"They were _family_." I tell him," We were always together. Taught me everything they knew."

 **So many lessons. So many teachings. So many memories.**

 _'It hurts to remember,'_ my heart twisted with grief at their loss.

"What were their names?" Jim asks, quietly.

"Leaf, Tie and Ell." I answer him, _' Why am I answering him?'_

"Were they nice?" Adam asks them.

I think back on them, on what I knew of them to be like, and them to the Gladers.

"No," I shook my head," They weren't nice people. _But no one from the Arena is._ "

They look surprise at my answer.

"You seem like a nice person." Jim tells me.

I snort, and close my eyes.

 _ **"I'm** **the** **cruelest person you'll ever meet."**_ I tell him.

The kitchen is silent and before anyone can say anything else I get up.

"Gotta go back to work, Mouse will never stop bothering me if I show up late." I wave at them as I leave.

 _'Why did I tell them that?!'_ I yelled at myself, _'Now they're never going to drop the matter!'_

* * *

Working with the Slicers wasn't something I could see myself doing for however long my stay on the Glade lasted. It had been a long day and I was tired, not physically since my body was antsy with having been so... so complacent these past two days, but tired in the way I just wanted to climb up my damn tree and ignore the rest of the world for a few hours.

I wasn't made to be very sociable. _Couldn't._ My mind kept pestering me to hide or to avoid contact, my skin burned underneath their stares and felt like something was crawling all over me when someone was too close.

I much preferred to be sitting in a corner somewhere no one could see me at first glance and eat some of Frypan's stew.

 _Which was what I was doing right now._

Mouse had allowed me to skin two rabbits after observing that I actually _did_ know how to handle a knife and I had brought them over to Frypan. No one mentioned our previous conversation, thank god, but there was something heavy in his eyes when he nodded at me.

I didn't try to help around in cooking the rabbit, instead I gravitated more to peel the vegetables and cut those.

 _Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I hadn't really liked cutting up the rabbits and having the blood covering my hands._

In fact... **They were shaking.**

I stare at them, impassive and disconnected, before closing my eyes and taking controlled deep breaths. **Everything was _fine_** , it wasn't... _I_ wasn't _back there again._

"You okay there, Cricket?" Jim asked from where he was crouched a few feet in front of me.

"I'm fine," I tell him," It will go away."

"You sure?" He asked," Do you want me to call Fry?"

"There's no need," I shook my head," It will go away."

I heard him sigh," Okay, if you say so, but if you need...-"

"I'm fine," I cut him off, not really feeling up to this.

He sighs again but leaves me to finish eating in peace.

 _'I'm tired,'_ I sigh, _' I don't want to be here.'_

 **But where else would I go?**

'There's nowhere to run to,' my mind tells me,' Unless you're prepared to never come back.'

I can picture the imposing Doors in front of me, covered in dead ivy and brownish stains, I can picture the seemingly endless Maze that hide behind it. The cold air, the slippery ground, and the macabre scenes you could find around every other corner.

And I can see myself running through that Maze. Running, _always running_ , with a dagger clutched in one hand and the other signaling the others for whatever I hear or see.

 _But, in the end, there was **no one left** for me to signal._ **No one to run with me.**

 _'But I still ran,'_ I whisper to myself.

 ** _'Liar,'_ **my mind hisses at me.

I jolt from my sitting position, place my empty plate on the tank that served as a sink, and walked out the door. I needed air, fresh air and space was what I needed.

It was nighttime now, though there was still some sunlight, and the air had cooled somewhat. I was starting to notice that the Glade had fairly hot weather, something I was not used to.

I was grateful I had, for now at least, only been working 'indoors' as I was certain I wouldn't fare as well under the burning sun as I did in the shade. I had asked Frypan earlier if the weather cooled at certain times but was told that it was the opposite actually.

 **It was going to get warmer.**

 _'Not good,'_ I muttered.

I walked to my tree in a sedated pace, no use to run there when all it would do was to make me more susceptible to triggers. Intentional or not.

I looked around as I walked, watched as the other guys went on with their lives smiling and laughing, and somewhere inside of my heart _I hated them_.

I twitched at the thought. Hate was a strong word, _a powerful word_ , and I didn't really hate that many things. Or people.

But **I knew hatred well** , and I had seen what hatred could do to someone, so I was divided on my feelings for the Gladers.

On one hand, they hadn't actually done anything to offend me or make me dislike them, in fact they were quite likeable _(at least some people were)_. On the other hand, however, they had everything I didn't have, or hadn't had, and that made me... _envious_?

 **Was it envy and not hatred I was feeling?**

I didn't know enough to answer that. Ell probably would know but Ell had been someone who always had an answer for anything.

 _'Except when it came to socially accepted interactions,'_ I smiled sadly at the thought.

Ell had been... _eccentric._

But we wouldn't have him any other way, none of us were completely sane either so it wasn't like we could complain. I wondered what he would think of this place, he would've liked it here, hell, even Tie and Leaf would've liked it here despite their obvious dislike for large crowds of people and being under someone else's authority.

I didn't like the latter either but... I wasn't going to do anything against it. **Not alone. _Not again._**

 _'I don't think I could go though it all over again,'_ I closed my eyes and walked towards the forest blindly, guided by the sounds around me and the already memorized path.

Climbing was easier now that my back wasn't as sore and the cut I had had finally scabbed over, my bruises could still be seen but they weren't as angry as before. I could at least gently poke at them without it sending painful shocks through my chest and stomach, so there was that.

I still had a small bump on the back of my head, though, and I thanked Frypan for not telling Clint, he'd have chased me down with a net and be damned the consequences if he knew.

I smirked to myself.

That seemed like something Clint would do, worry about my injuries no matter how many times I hissed at him or told him to go away. He was too much like Tie in that sense.

 _'But you let Tie look at your injuries,'_ my mind recalled, _' Even if that was because the only other option would be Leaf.'_

 _I shivered._

Leaf, for all his gifts, would amputate an arm faster than he would make a splint and let it heal. And for Ell to help patch someone up than that person better have something to trade in return, the old miser.

 _'It hurts to remember them,'_ my heart twisted once more.

I pressed my legs closer to my chest and crossed my arms over them, resting my head lightly, and closed my eyes.

 **It did hurt.** It hurt more than any injury I had received. Knowing all I had left of them were memories, _broken memories at that_ , that I could not fully recall without some painful reminder that we had **_always_ been living on borrowed time**.

 _'We were always meant to die, sooner or later, **no one can keep running forever** ,'_ I told myself, _' That was our truth. The_ only _certainty we had. **One day or the other we would die in that Maze.** '_

"So _why_ am I still alive?" I asked aloud, feeling tears spring from my eyes and running down my face.

 **I didn't sleep well that night.**

* * *

I was back in the Maze, running like always, headed north. It had rained last night so the ground was wet and I felt miserable. My stomach ached from where Leaf had kicked me earlier in one of our spars.

They were somewhere west of me I think, Ell had headed east today since he had some new traps he wanted to try out and both Tie and Leaf had volunteered to head west today instead of making me do it.

I heard Caps had been caught there last week and I wasn't eager to see if anyone had bothered to go back there for what was left of him.

 **No one ever did.**

So I was all by myself today, if one ignored the other terrified dwellers of the Arena that had decided to head north like I had.

I recognized Buzz, one of Ell's bartering regulars, and Avis, the guy that sold weapons to those who could pay his prices, but the other two were unfamiliar to me.

Oh, sure I might've seen them around but I never really went that much farther than the entrance door of our burrow while alone and Leaf _(the one that usually is responsible for me)_ was never one for socializing.

I was brought out of my musings though when I hear the sound of pounding drums.

 **As one we tense in reflex.**

"Damn, they're headed this way." Buzz whimpers.

Ell had told me Buzz was kind of a coward but I never really thought about it before.

 _'Should I say something to him?'_ I wondered, _' But why should I do that? He wouldn't either... right?'_

I don't try to find and answer for that, instead I just sprint towards the nearest wall and start climbing the dead vines. It was dangerous, more often than not they were loose and you fell, but I knew that _(of five)_ once we split in the next turn, one way would lead to a dead end and the other ran the possibility of being caught trapped between the moving walls.

I don't wait to see if any of the others follow after me, I honestly hope they don't, and climb as fast as Ell had taught me to, even if he could still climb faster than I ever hoped to achieve, before stilling completely when I hear the rushing sound of footsteps and loud crowing sounds approaching me.

 _My heart stutters in my chest._

I'm not exactly hidden, if they look up then it's easy to spot me among the vines, and that thought terrifies me but Tie always told me to never let my mind be overcome with fear.

 _'You have to keep your head on straight,'_ He told me, _'The moment you lose yourself and can no longer think on your feet, it's the moment the Hunters kill you.'_

 **I cannot stay here.**

Slowly, so slowly as to not cause my vine to break off, I reach out for more vines and twist them around me.

 _'I have to hide myself,'_ I think, _' If they mistake me for a clump of vine they will keep going forward.'_

It's rather easier said than done, while there are many vines for me to hide underneath they are rather brittle and some even have thorns. My fingers bleed from where they got caught in said thorns and I hiss quietly when they snare on my scalp but it works.

They pass right underneath me, they don't even look up, and as soon as I see them turn around the corner I disentangle myself and restart climbing with renewed vigor. I'm about to reach the top when I hear the awful screech of terror coming from someone off to my left.

 _'Someone got caught,'_ I remember thinking, something rotten in my stomach.

 _At least it wasn't me..._

 **That was what I felt at the time.** _Everyone else_ but _me,_ it _didn't matter_ if they died because I was _still alive._ I was still alive and in three hours I was going to enter the burrow and have Tie grumble about all the nicks and cuts I had on my fingers while Leaf would roll his eyes and Ell would tell us all about the traps he planted.

And everything would be fine.

 _ **Until it wasn't...**_

* * *

My dream changes. It's dark, Ell and I are struggling to hold Leaf down while he spits and snarls at us. He wants us to let him go, he's yelling at us that we have to let him go, that Tie is still out there and we have to go look for him.

Ell and I share a look, heavy and red-rimmed, but we do not say a word. We don't need to, Leaf already knows, he does, even if he does not want to believe it.

 **Suddenly there are hands on my throat and _I can't breathe._** I look up to see maddened eyes, blue as the sky and cold, so very cold, staring down at me.

He's snarling words I do not listen to, foaming at the mouth and fingers digging deep into my skin. I reach out for help but there's no one but us, just Leaf and I alone in the cold, uncaring, blood soaked earth of the Arena.

My eyes water due to the pain and my lungs scream for air, I struggle to get free but his grip is unyielding.

There are black spots covering my vision now, static muffling my ears, and I think to myself, _'This is it.'_

 _But it_ couldn't _be._

 **It could not be.**

 _Because... Because..._

I scream in Leaf's face and kick him on the side, rolling out from underneath him, and throwing myself back at him. This time I'm the one straddling him, holding his wrists as he once again tries to reach out and strangle me.

He has a bigger reach than me, _I'm the runt_ , the shortest and the youngest of all of us, the one who everyone knew would die in my first hunt if Leaf hadn't taken me under his wing. But I had spent the last two years honing my strength and skills so that I could survive, _so that I could thrive_ , because god knew I was not going to give up.

 **I had something to live _for_.**

 _I had made a_ promise _._

 **And I intended to keep it.**

'But you failed, in the end,' A malicious voice whispers in my ear,'And that's why you're here, isn't it?'

 _To see what_ could _have been true, had you not_ destroyed _it._

'Didn't he tell you, little Cricket?' The whisper cooed.

I see bloodied lips, strained in a humorless smile, mimic the words my mind replays constantly in dreams:

 _ **"This is all your fault. This is all your fault. You started this. We should have never let you live."**_

 _This is all my fault._

 **This is all _my_ fault.**

I jolt awake with a gasp, barely managing to hold on to the branch to keep me from falling down, once again, to the ground below.

Tears stream down my face silently and I muffle my sobs into my hands.

 _'I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Please...'_ I cry.

 _ **I didn't mean to.**_

* * *

...fills the light air with visionary terrors, and shapeless forms of fear." \- Junius


	5. Chapter 4 - Beware the fury

Hello once again! Back with another chatper of If Wishes were Fishes!

* * *

 **\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 -** "Beware the fury...

* * *

I can't muster much energy the following morning. Thankfully Baggers, the job I'm trying out today, doesn't require me to be _overly_ alert. They are the ones that deal with the bodies of those who've died and _(because unlike what it was in the Arena, not that many people die here)_ they are also responsible for watching over the Doors.

And throw someone in the Slammer _(or Pit, I've heard both)_ but, _again_ , that doesn't really happen all that often.

The Keeper of the Baggers, a tall guy with curly blond or brownish hair and warm brown eyes, that's fairly thin in comparison with Frypan or Clint, named Billy, doesn't talk much. He told me what he expected me to do, gestured vaguely to the two other Baggers, who I do not recall the name of, and then led me to the Doors.

I've been watching them lazily since, under the burning sun, and trying to summon up the energy to care enough to move to somewhere less... bright.

 _'I'm tired,'_ I mumble under my breath.

I didn't sleep half of the night, not since I had that nightmare, and it took Frypan's bribing to get me to come down today, something I was sure the others were anticipating due to the worried looks they sent me as I mulishly ate breakfast.

I think Newt even talked to me at some point but I can't really remember.

My head feels as if it's filled with cotton and my body feels _heavy_.

There's nothing to do other than stand here all day, this is certainly a lot more boring than being a Slicer and I cannot think of a reason someone would willingly _want_ to become one.

 _But to each their own, I guess..._

"You don't look like much, Greenie." Someone is speaking.

I turn to see one of the other Baggers, tall, lanky with bad hair, looking at me up and down. I don't say anything in response, simply stare back at him dispassionately waiting for him to either move on with the conversation or, preferably, to go away.

"Frypan and the other Cooks were going on and on about you yesterday but now that you're here I don't really see why." He says, voice neutral like he's not meaning those words to be taunts or insults, just what he thought of me.

I remain silent. _The feeling was mutual._ My sleep deprived brain automatically cataloged all the ways I could take him down, immobilize him or maim him the moment he was within three feet of me.

 **He wouldn't put much of a fight.**

"He looks dead on his feet," The other Bagger sighs," I don't think he's actually hearing you."

"Think he's asleep with his eyes open?" The guy in front of me wonders aloud.

 _'Wouldn't_ that _be a dream come true,'_ I deadpan, _' Can you please go away now?'_ I plead.

"In any case, leave him alone, you know what Billy said." The other one shook his head.

The guy in front of me sighs, annoyed, but complies. I'm left alone for the rest of the morning, allowed to trudge my way to the kitchen to eat lunch, my head is still in a daze and it takes my eyes one moment to focus and see Frypan staring at me weirdly.

"What?" I ask, my words come out half mumbled, like my tongue is asleep.

"You're _swaying_ on your feet," Frypan informs me.

"'m not." I deny.

"Huh-huh," Frypan nods, unconvinced," Alec, tell Clint to come here now, Greenie is about to pass out."

I can see a blurry figure run out of the kitchen somewhere to my right but I focus on Frypan's words with some difficulty.

"I am _not_ about to pass out," I snap at him.

"You are, you either haven't realize it yet or you're in just plain denial," Frypan walks closer to me slowly.

I eye him carefully, the edges of my vision are fogged up _and_ I have difficulty focusing **but** I'm also the guy who _ran_ for three days straight inside the Maze with no food and made it out alive, _somehow_.

 _I might_ like _Frypan but I_ do not _like the way he's advancing towards me._

 _'Think,'_ I slow my breathing, _' I don't want to harm him, not really.'_

 **Option 1** , outrun him;

No, won't work, as soon as I take off there's going to be a whole group of Gladers after me, it's lunch break and they are all outside, and I don't think I can run very far without seeing straight;

 **Option 2** , disable him;

No, I can't do that. I cannot harm him;

 **Option 3** , find out why he's approaching and plan from there;

 _Best option, basically._

"Why are you getting closer?" I ask him.

Frypan pauses," I'm getting closer to you so if you run I can at least try to catch you."

"I'm not running, it would be pointless," I tell him with a clipped tone of voice.

Frypan pauses again," You're going to stay put until Clint gets here?"

" _Why_ is Clint coming here?" I ask.

"Clint is here because someone is obviously not feeling well and decided to not tell anyone," Someone answers from the kitchen door.

I tense, half turning so I can keep an eye on both blurs at once.

"You're right, he looks like crap," The blur by the door sighs.

"You don't look _that_ pretty yourself," I snap back.

There's a small round of snickers.

"Thanks, Cricket, my self-esteem appreciates the comment," The blur tells me.

"He's still coherent, that's good right?" Frypan asks.

"You tell me, he's not even seeing us straight," The blur, I'm recognizing him as Clint the longer he talks,"See his eyes? He can't focus them."

I stay silent which is just as good as agreeing with him as he's going to get, and Frypan swears.

"He's sick?" He asks.

"I think it's just a heatstroke," Clint answers," You told me he was bothered by the warm weather and today is rather sunny and hot, and he's been under the sun the whole morning." He explains.

"It's not that warm, though..." Another Cook frowns.

"For you, Greenbean here isn't used to this weather," Clint huffed a laugh," He's a cold creature, he's practically burning under the sunlight."

"And he didn't say anything because _why_ _would_ _he_?" Frypan bites out, turning to face me," Seriously, Cricket?"

I hiss at him," I am **fine**."

"You're about to pass out," Frypan argues.

"I am _not_!" I hiss again.

"Let him pass out, at least _this_ _way_ I can examine his injuries while he's out," Clint tells him," He can be upset all he wants later."

 **Shit.**

 _'Not good, Cricket,'_ I can nearly hear Ell snicker.

 _'Idiot,'_ Leaf sighs.

 _'You kind of had it coming,'_ Tie smirks, _' Never anger a medic, didn't I taught you that?'_

 _Goddamnit._ **So not helping.**

I glare at both blurs, ignoring the sighs and snickers I can hear around me.

"What's happening over there?" Someone loudly asks from outside the kitchen.

"Greenie is about to pass out and Clint is waiting for him to do so, so he can take him to the Med-jacks." Alec answers, poking his head out of the kitchen.

" _Why_ is he passing out?" The person asks.

"Heatstroke, Greenie not used to our weather," He laughs.

"Seriously?" I can hear the incredulity in that guy's voice.

 _It's familiar._

My vision blurs and I lean on the table slightly, shaking my head to dispel the dizzy spell that over takes me.

I hear footsteps walking closer to me.

"I can punch someone with my eyes closed, **do not _tempt_ me**," I snarl and they stop.

They probably say something back, probably admonishment because that was _rude_ , but I can't hear anything. Can't see anything anymore either, my vision overtaken by darkness.

 _I lose consciousness soon after that._

* * *

When I open my eyes again, I'm lying in a cot and Newt is grinning down at me very much amused.

"Nice nap?" He snickers.

"Shuck off," I groan.

"Ah! Glade slang! See you're fitting right in," He smiles.

"I feel half dead," I tell him," And I can't remember what the hell happened."

"You passed out in the kitchens, Clint and Frypan carried you here, then Clint and Jeff, our Med-jacks took a look at you," Newt answers.

"Ugh," I groan," What's the verdict?"

"Clint doesn't want you climbing trees and if you're really that opposed to sleeping with the other Gladers than he's letting you crash in here, so long as there's a bed free." Newt sighs," He also wants me to ask you what exactly cut you in the back."

"It's scabbed over, it ain't bleeding." I hiss.

"It's _infected_ ," Newt bristles, "And he's not bloody amused with you keeping from him severe bruising you had on you."

"It's none of his business!" I snarl, trying to get up and get out of here.

"Stay put, Greenie!" Newt gets up to his feet.

I eye him, I'm not in top form and, _despite his limp_ , Newt has defined muscles like Leaf. _Too much like Leaf, really._

 **But even I beat Leaf a few times.**

I jump out of bed and face Newt, I don't have any of my weapons on me and my shirt is missing. I'm barefoot, I can feel the wooden floor under them, and I have bandages wrapping my chest that limits my movement.

"Greenie..." Newt's eyes narrow, their warm brown color darkening.

 _In spite of everything, I've faced worse with even worse odds against me._

I spy the door through the corner of my eye.

"You take one step towards that door and I swear we will bloody _tie you to the shucking bed_ , Slinthead!" Newt half yells at me.

 _'Slinthead?'_ I echo, _' That's new.'_

I weight the possibilities of provoking him to make the first move and reacting against making the first move and attacking straight ahead.

 _I was too much like Leaf sometimes..._

I barreled through the door and towards the exit in two heartbeats, Newt swears behind me and tries to tackle me. I twist out of the way, jump over him and resume my run to freedom.

"Come back here, _you bloody idiot!_ " Newt yells.

I think I spy Clint, staring wide-eyed at me before I get out the door and into the open Glade. People stop and stare at me, in confusion, before yelling when they see Newt trying to, once again, tackle me down.

The bandage around my chest is annoying me, constricts my breathing and movement, but I leave it alone. _For now._

In retaliation for his tackle I kick him in the leg, trying to overbalance him. Doesn't work, obviously he was prepared for me to try that.

 _Okay..._ **I like a challenge.**

He's not very pleased with my decision, his glare tells me enough, and the way his own chest rises and falls is also a telling sign of anger.

 _'Did he actually expect me to stay there?'_ I ask myself.

No time to answer, I duck under his fist and arm and try to hit the back of his shoulder, hard enough to bruise at most but not enough to accidentally break something.

 _'I'm_ not _trying to maim,'_ I tell myself, _' I_ just _need him to get off my back.'_

 _'You know he won't do that, right?'_ Tie tells me, _' When did Leaf ever back down from a challenge?'_

 _'You're going to get in trouble,'_ Ell shrugs, _' Might as well make it fun while it lasts.'_

 **Too true.**

He growls at me, turning quickly and trying to keep me in his line of sight, he knows the moment I'm at his unprotected back that I won't waste time ending this.

 _We dance._ There's no other word I could use to describe it. We both gets hits in and we both dodge double that number attracting a crowd around us who come to observe the show.

 **It's loud.** And confusing. I try to block everything out, focusing only on the tall blond guy that's trying to punch the lights out of me.

The fight lasted around ten minutes, and halfway through it was obvious to both parties who was going to come out victorious. I didn't give up though, I wasn't going to submit. If he wanted me to back down then he was going to have to take me down fighting.

 ** _I would_ never _submit._**

 _But I_ could _lose the fight._

I could lose a thousand fights.

 **But I would never, _ever_ , submit to someone else.**

* * *

"Seriously, Greenbean?!" Clint barked,"You just _had_ to pick a fight didn't you?"

I kept quiet, mutinously staring back at the ropes tying me down to the cot.

 _'He wasn't kidding,'_ I fought to keep the grin out of my expression.

 _I couldn't help but feel amused by this whole situation._

And I kind of felt vindicated since the blond was also assigned to a bed opposite to me, a bottle of ice water pressed to his face.

I landed a sound punch on his cheekbone earlier and it was starting to show.

"Alby is _so_ not impressed with you," Clint kept up his speech,"You were walking on thin ice due to your..." He gesture to me," _... deals!_ And **now** he has to have this mess sorted out!"

I, once again, remain quiet. Honestly, I don't trust myself to not laugh myself silly about this whole situation. And the put out expression the blond at the end of the room has on his face.

"He's bloody amused by all this," He grumbles," His eyes are bloody shining and all!" He adds.

 _'Oops,'_ I mentally shrug, _'Better luck next time.'_

" _This is not funny!_ " Clint rages," You're getting sent to the pit! _The pit!_ A week in the damn pit because of this stunt!"

"A record, for a Greenie." Newt grouches from his bed.

 _'How nice,'_ I sigh.

"Did you even expect to get away with this?" Clint asks, frustrated.

I stop at that and look up at him. _Did I expect to get away?_

"No," I answer him," But I had to try."

"Why?" He demands.

"Because... Why would I stay?" I ask him.

"Because you're supposed to be healing from your wounds." Clint answers tersely.

"They were healing," I roll my eyes.

"They were _infected_ ," Clint presses him hand to his forehead as if he has a headache.

"So?" I tilt my head to the side,"They _would_ _still_ heal."

"Badly, they'd scar and...-" Clint explains before he stops," You've never actually had someone take care of your wounds did you?"

Newt looks startled.

I frown at them, my back twinged with the phantom pain of wood piercing my skin.

"They'd stop the bleeding and make it easy to move without making it open back up," I answer, dispelling the memories," What else were they to do? There was _no time_ for taking breaks or sitting out of a run."

"So they never disinfected one? They never told you to keep them dry and clean?" Clint sits down on a chair beside my bed, I inch away from him.

"Has no one ever told you that you need to regularly check any open wounds for infection?" He asks.

"No," I answer, warily.

"You have burn marks on your body, cuts, scratches, deep shucking gashes on your skin and you're telling me that you've never, _ever_ , had someone stop and say, 'Hey, you should keep that clean and air it out'." Clint sounds stressed.

" _Who_ would say that?" I ask him with a groan.

They don't say anything else, they kind of just stare at me sadly with he same hints of worry and frustration as before.

"Just rest, I'm going to try and make sure you won't get those infected again when you're put in the pit." Clint shakes his head and gets up.

"Keep an eye on him," Clint sighs to Newt, pausing at the door.

"Sure, not really feeling up to having Alby yell at me neither," He shrugs," I can keep an eye on the Slinthead."

"What does that one mean?" I ask.

"It means idiot," Clint answers," Fitting description of you right now."

"Thanks," I wave my fingers," My self-esteem appreciates the comment."

"I _will_ get back to you on that one," He mutters before closing the door.

I turn to stare at Newt.

"Nice shiner, Robin," I crack a small grin.

He rolls his good eye at me.

"Go the shuck to sleep," He groans.

"Don't really feel like it," I tell him," Wanna bet I can get out of these bonds?" I grin.

"Don't you bloody dare, Cricket." He growls.

I laugh.

I don't let him know how I wouldn't be able to do it without opening my cuts, finding amusement in the way he refuses to get his eyes off me for more than a second.

My lips _almost_ stretch into a smirk.

* * *

In the end, I _don't_ actually end up in the Pit.

Clint had some _words_ with Alby about how I reacted mostly because I had no education on what not to do regarding to injuries, and then _Newt_ talked to him about how I hadn't reacted violently until he pushed me and _somehow_ I find myself in this situation.

"So, you're going to be staying here." Newt tells me, gesturing to the small empty room on the top floor of the Homestead.

"I like my tree, _thanks_ ," I deadpan.

Newt shrugs," Not really your call to make, Greenbean, the only reason you're not in the Pit was because you really don't know how things work around here. You don't understand them and punishing that... isn't right." He explains.

"So you're making me sleep indoors." I look around the room, there's nothing really here except a blue-ish hammock.

"You're getting _mentored_." Newt tells me," You're lucky I volunteered to be it, no one else would really be as accommodating."

" _I_ _gave_ _you_ _a black eye_ ," I look at him," You're _not supposed_ to be accommodating."

"Would you rather have us lock you in the pit?" He asks.

I think back on the hole in the ground they called the Slammer.

"You don't _really_ think I'd stay there more than two hours, right?" I tilt my head to the side," It's a hole in the ground, dirt, with wooden bars. I'd be out before sunrise the next morning."

Newt grimaces," That would not make you popular with the Gladers, already Gally is yelling favoritism at whoever lends him an ear."

"Because it _is_ ," I sigh," Look, I apologize for... 'escaping' the Med-jacks, but... _This_ ," I gesture to the room," Is _not_ what I need."

"Then _what_ do _you_ need?" He asks, leaning on the door frame.

I stare up at the ceiling," _I don't know._ "

 _And it's true._ **I don't.**

It's that fact, that lack of knowledge, that is driving me insane. **I am not supposed to be here** , **but I am, somehow I _am_.**

 _And it makes no sense._

"Am I going to be joining the Baggers again?" I ask him.

"No, you're joining the Track-hoes, that's where I usually work." He answers me," Billy didn't see a point in having you back when it was obvious you wouldn't fit in there."

"I fit in the kitchens and I'm still doing this," I roll my eyes.

"That's different," He smiles.

"It really ain't, Robin," I huff," Stubbs... What is he?"

Newt chuckles at the nickname," Gally? He's the Keeper of the Builders, you're joining him... in two or three days?" He wonders aloud that last part.

"Wonderful," I sigh.

"Don't be like that," Newt shakes his head, smiling," Gally acting like that because you don't behave like all the other Greenies."

"I'm _not_ like all the other Greenies," I point out.

"But letting that influence us would be favoritism," Newt tutts.

 _I roll my eyes._

* * *

"This is torture," I wheeze," How the hell do you _stand_ this heat?"

Newt laughs," It's not _that_ hot."

"If it gets any hotter this might as well be a desert!" I yell back at him," I come from rain and cold winds! I was _not_ made to stand this weather!"

"You're going to love our summer then," Zart, the Keeper of the Track-hoes, tells me," Even these shanks think it's hot then."

"I'm finding a way out before then," I tersely turn to Newt," I'm blaming this _torture_ on _you_ , I'm pretty sure the Pit would at least have _some_ shade."

Newt grins at him, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"Don't be like that," He says," You're only harvesting vegetables, imagine if you were plowing the land." His smirk widens.

I glare fiercely at him.

"I remember Memo telling me not to do strenuous things, I'm pretty sure that meant hacking at the ground with hoes, Robin." I tell him.

"Oh, _now_ you remember Clint's medical advice?" Newt laughed," Where was this memory when he told you to stay in bed?"

"Technically he didn't, you did," I roll my eyes," And coming from you, it's not medical advice."

"Ouch, that hurts," He fake clutches his heart," Right here."

I ignore him.

 _It's going to be a long day._

* * *

I become partial to the hammock surprisingly quickly. It takes some getting used to, with all the swaying and rocking all night, but it's comfortable enough I don't complain.

 _The bedroom, however,_ is _a problem._

The upper level of the Homestead is where the rooms of the Leader, Second-in-Command and the Keepers have their rooms, if they choose to sleep there, of course, so me being here means I have somehow been 'elevated' among the other Gladers.

 _That's problem A._

Problem B being the fact that _every time_ I wake up from a nightmare, disoriented and angry, _everyone else_ is able to hear me freak out.

Newt showing up at my door and asking me if I am alright only to be told point blank that I will _seriously_ hurt him if he opens that door is _**not**_ something that can be repeated three times in a row and not have some sort of consequences.

 **This being my consequence.**

"C'mon, Greenie," Gally, tall with dirty blond hair and awful personality, made a 'come at me' gesture with his hands.

 _How I got into situations like these I will never truly understand._ Newt had walked away for a moment, Alby having called for him, and suddenly Gally was in my face about my appearance in the Glade messing with the order of things.

Okay, I _didn't_ disagree with him, so I kept quiet. But apparently by keeping quiet I was 'disrespecting' him, so I told him,'Listen, Stubbs, I am not disrespecting you'.

But that only brought _another_ argument about my refusal to call them by their names, which was 'disrespectful'. I told him _only I used them_ and that I wasn't forcing anyone to adhere to them, they could call each other by name if they wanted to.

Unfortunately that only made the argument escalate to the point where Gally decided that a fight was the _best_ _way_ to solve matters.

 **Joy.**

I tried to see if Newt was anywhere nearby or if anyone I knew of was watching but no such luck.

I naturally _couldn't_ fight him, the moment I did he was going to twist the event to paint himself in the best possible light.

 _But if I didn't fight back..._

Gally's hand suddenly appeared in my field of view and I dodged out of the way.

 _'Not this again,'_ I wanted to yell in frustration.

I was honestly _done_ with the whole 'Obey me or else' attitude of the Glade. I get it, they were here first, yes they started out the community, but every other Greenie that came afterwards had no choice but to follow the rules they created.

The rules they created without them even being present. Furthermore, one _couldn't_ account for all possibilities, like me for example.

 **Where exactly did I fit in in the whole grand scheme of things?** I wasn't a newbie in the sense of the word, I had already been in a place like this for two years, in harsher conditions than these, and I wasn't about to let those years disappear like they never happened.

 _There were only three people who could order me around without consequences._ And all three of them were _**dead**_.

While I appreciated the effort made by Frypan, Clint and even Newt, _I was done._

 _I couldn't stand this any longer._

 _ **They thought I was all bark and no bite?**_

 _'You're about to do something rash again,'_ Tie groaned.

 _ **I'd show them my bite.**_

I stopped dodging Gally and let him grab my arm.

 _Two years worth of fighting instincts kicked in._

 **And I didn't stop them.**

* * *

"How is he?" Alby asked.

"How do you think? Broken nose, might've broken a rib or two, he's shoulder is dislocated and his wrist... _Possibly_ isn't broken, just badly bruised." Clint answered from where he was wrapping Gally's wounds.

"And only above the waist, Greenie put him through a wringer." Jess turned to face Alby," He's in the other room, Frypan and the Track-hoes had to hold him down and tie him up because he wasn't calming down."

"He say anything?" Alby asked gravely.

"Hasn't said a word, screamed bloody murder but nothing else," Clint sighed.

" _How did this happen?_ " Alby demanded.

"No idea, the Builders said he just threw himself at Gally, no reason, but..." Clint stopped.

"But? You don't think that's what's happened?" Alby questioned," Speak up!" He loudly demanded.

"Cricket would _**not**_ just suddenly attack Gally! _He wouldn't!_ " Clint let go of the bandages and turned to face Alby," When he 'fought' Newt? He only hit with enough force to bruise, _nothing more_ , and he didn't fight as viciously as this. Newt _provoked_ the reaction of 'flight' with him by ordering him to stay put." Clint explained.

"But he didn't, at any point in their fight, try to _seriously_ hurt Newt. I was there that time, he saw more openings in Newt's movements than he exploited simply because he could hurt him." Clint shook his head," I counted at least three instances where he could've broken Newt's arm instead of simply trying to throw him off balance."

"You think Gally provoked this," Alby said," But even if Gally _did_ , Clint, we have rules. And you cannot say he didn't break them."

"So what are you going to do?" Clint asked," Throw him in the Slammer? _Banish him?_ "

Alby wanted to groan in frustration.

It would not seem 'fair' to banish the kid for something he _might_ have no fault in, but it would look bad if he wasn't punished.

 **Harshly.**

 _Gally could've died._ His injuries were severe, broken ribs could've pierced a lung, broken wrist might never heal straight... many things.

"What are his injuries?" Alby asked instead.

"Bruises at most," Jeff answered," He has a couple of scratches from where Frypan and the others roughed him up on the ground, and his cut opened up again," Jeff added.

"Knock him out," Alby ordered, ignoring the look of positive anger Clint sent his way," I want him moved to the Slammer, tied up, I am not letting this happen again."

"What do you mean?" Clint asked.

Alby gave the Med-jack a stern look.

"It means I will not allow a single Greenie to run around unsupervised when he has clearly shown me that he can and will use force against the other people I am responsible for."

* * *

...of a patient man." \- Publilius Syrus


	6. Chapter 5 - Oh, my friend

**\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 -** "Oh, my friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts...

* * *

I wasn't upset at being locked in the Pit, _I was already half expecting it to be worse actually_ , what I was angry about was the fact that _I had been right_.

Right to assume the situation would turn out to make me look like the villain in this perfect and small community.

I had woken up in here, in the early hours of the morning, with a guard standing at the door watching me to make sure I wasn't going to do something I might regret.

The guard changed every so hour, not limited to Baggers either, but none tried to speak to me.

 _I wouldn't have responded either way._

That was my response to this whole situation.

 **Silence.**

 _I was not deigning to tell this group of idiots_ one _word._ **I was done.**

My nightmares kept getting worse, half the time I'd wake up with bleeding wrists because I struggled against the bindings in my sleep.

Clint had taken them off to put a bandage underneath them so that the ropes wouldn't cut through the skin directly but we both knew it was just delaying the inevitable.

I saw Gally walking around with a sling two weeks after I had been put here. He'd tried to come here to gloat but was told off by Alby, apparently I was here until everyone could get a consensus on what exactly happened that day.

It made me feel slightly better that Gally's word wasn't automatically assumed as the truth.

But my actions against him had scared the Gladers.

 **I knew I was violent.** _You_ had to be _to survive in the Arena._

 **I knew I was vicious.** I had been taught to keep hitting my opponent even after I had already won the fight. Because I had to win all the others too, only then would I be left alone.

 **I knew I was different.**

 _ **I knew I didn't belong here!**_

But all the others assumed that the monster I warned them about was nothing more than a shapeless shadow, they didn't believe me when I told them I was their biggest nightmare turned reality.

'But you haven't really told them, have you?' My mind played tricks on me,'They don't know what happened in the Arena.'

I ignored that voice as much as I could, the voice that led my nightmares to become twisted versions of reality.

 _I ignored it the best that I could._

 ** _But sometimes your best just isn't enough..._**

* * *

"Still not talking?" Frypan sighed from where he was holding a bowl of food.

They had been trying to get me to talk back for a week or so, Clint or even Frypan himself is probably the reason for it. Now, _no matter who_ , my guard _has_ to talk to me. He can talk about whatever he wants _(Zart talks about his crops, Winston tells me stories about all the injuries that have happened to the Slicers, Alec tells me about what's happening in the kitchen, etc)_ but they all have to talk.

Except Gally, but he's not allowed near me.

 _I find that extremely amusing._

I didn't even look at him, at first I was tempted to, I liked Frypan, but I chose not to. I was going to be better than them, so that meant absolutely no 'favoritism'.

Impartial, that was what I was supposed to be, impartial. And that meant I was to ignore everyone all the same.

"You know, everything would be so much quicker if you just told Alby what happened." He tried, once again, but I remain silent.

"A new Greenie is coming tomorrow," He said," I wonder what he will be like. Will he be like you?"

 _I highly doubted he would be like me._

"The guys miss you in the kitchen, they keep turning to your table and expect to see you sitting there peeling something or eating with this gleam in your eyes." He continues, undeterred by my silence.

"Newt came by yesterday, he got Alby to give him your stuff and he gave them to me so I could safe keep them. Apparently Gally was making all sort of noise about laying claim on your knives and stuff since you couldn't be trusted with them," Frypan told me," Despite the fact you didn't injure him with them."

 _The thought of Gally touching my dagger made my blood boil._

"I have them, don't worry," Frypan assured me," You can thank Newt the next time you see him."

 _Maybe._

"Anyway, the kitchen is quiet without you." Frypan seemed to be ending his speech as he made a 'slow down' gesture for the approaching guy who was going to replace him.

"When you get out of here, you're going to start working with me immediately, no more trial period, Alby and the others know you won't fit anywhere else but the kitchens." He says," Can't wait to have you back, Cricket."

 _Me too, Frypan._

* * *

The night the new Greenie arrives is probably the night I have my worst nightmare yet. There was a pig in the Box this month and the Gladers all begged Frypan to roast it for the Feast, which he conceded to since he also wanted to eat roasted pork.

 _As soon as the smell hit me I very nearly doubled over and puked all over the cell's floor._

 ** _That smell..._ **_It was so similar that between one breath and the other I was back in that place._

 **Back in the Arena...**

Seven days after I had inicially arrived there. My shoulder still ached from where that fat bastard Dew had burnt me with a torch. I was being held back by Leaf, his hand over my mouth as he tried to muffle my screams.

Tie wasn't here, he and Ell were stealing all the supplies they could get their hands on whilst the Hunters had their celebration.

 **Every fortnight.**

 _ **They did this**_ **every** _ **fortnight.**_

I was crying. I remember crying _so much_ that night. Trembling against Leaf's chest as he held me and told me to be quiet, _I had to be quiet or they'd hear me,_ and I can't help but remember that the first thing that popped into my mind after that was:

 ** _'How can they hear me above all those screams?'_**

I didn't sleep properly for days.

One of the guys always slapped a hand over my mouth as soon as I started whimpering in my sleep.

When I finally stopped crying and could sleep through the night _two more_ celebrations had taken place. I remember watching the third beside Leaf and feeling...

 **Empty.**

 _I_ couldn't _trudge up the energy to care._

'They shouldn't have been caught.'

 ** _'They didn't run fast enough.'_**

 _'It was their own fault, really.'_

 **And it was then,** _when I took a step back and analyzed my own emotions and thoughts, **that I knew I hated myself.**_

* * *

"Hi, I'm Ben," the Greenie looked extremely nervous at seeing me lounging in my small cell. I had been dragged out by Frypan and Clint and got a bucket of water dumped on me _(kidding they took me to the showers)_ so I didn't look or smell that bad as I had a few hours prior, but I guess this was the first time he saw me.

 _Face to face, at least._

I was certain that the others had already mentioned me in some way or another.

"Uh... Frypan talks a lot about you, I was working with him yesterday and he was always telling me I was hopeless in the kitchen, so not like you." He grins a bit, nervous and unsure.

"I'm going into the Maze tomorrow, Minho said I might make a good Runner so I'm trying that out tomorrow." He tells me.

 _Huh, high praise coming from Minho._ He couldn't really talk about the Maze, since I wasn't a Runner, but he liked talking about people. Tell embarrassing jokes, or even day to day events that the Glade was talking about.

And the one thing I learnt about Minho was that he cared, _a lot_ , for his Runners. He wouldn't toss a Greenie into the Maze unless he was absolutely sure they had what it took.

This Ben... If Minho thought he was going to make a good Runner, then he would make a damn fine Runner.

The newbie kept talking, at first very hesitant and shifty but he grew to understand my silence wasn't me ignoring him, I listened to every word.

 _I wondered if that was Alby's plan._ Making me relate to them, all but forcing me to have to interact with them even if I didn't respond to their words.

 _But it wasn't something I was going to dwell on._

Being stuck here meant I had a lot of time to think, little much else to do but that really, and I was starting to get anxious of being here.

Nothing I couldn't ignore, but like a thorn on my side that was just a tad bit too annoying.

I wanted to get out of here, but I didn't like the way they planned on having me break my 'silence treatment' of them to do so.

Alby _was_ stubborn.

 **But so was I.**

* * *

"And you wouldn't believe! It's _huge_! Like, it seems endless! Every time you turn around a corner it looks the same as the one before! I was so scared when Minho told me I was going to be the one leading us back to the entrance!" Ben talked excitedly with wild gesturing hands.

 **It was amusing.**

I'd assumed someone would have told him not to mention anything Maze-related to me but it seems Ben was either disobeying that order, _which I doubted_ , or Ben hadn't been told about said rule.

 _Which was interesting._ _If_ **suspicious** _._

It was now, what?, six or seven weeks since I was kept in Slammer and we were half way through a new month. Soon Ben wouldn't be the Greenie anymore either.

It was highly disconcerting that I was seeing all this time pass me by while I was idle.

 **I wanted to get out.**

 _But I didn't want to the the one to bend first._

The others, Frypan, Clint and the rest of the Cooks, were getting frustrated too. If they were only going to keep me locked up why don't they lock me up in the kitchens or even in the barn?

Frypan even suggested tying me up with the guard and help around the Glade as before.

But, for some reason, Alby refused.

 **This whole situation was a mess.**

"Hey, Cricket!" Newt was, apparently, my new guard this time," Ben, Minho is calling for you."

"Ah! Right! I gotta go, see you later!" Ben waves at me before sprinting off.

 _I kind of want to run too..._

"You look miserable," Newt sighs, crouching in front of the doors," Why not just end this?"

I turn to look at the wall in front of me.

I hear him sigh.

"Frypan almost attacked Gally today." He said.

I turn to look at him, worried despite the fact he hadn't obviously been thrown in the Slammer.

"He said something about how it would be so much simpler if we just banished you." Newt shook his head.

 _Typical Gally then..._

"Alby... Alby said that he wouldn't do anything unless you proved to be, well, too dangerous to keep around." Newt told me," Gally told them his side of the story, again, and it would really help us, Cricket if you told us yours."

 _'Why don't you tell him?'_ Tie asks, _'Stubbornness to the point of being stupid is not going to save you.'_

 _'You want to spend another night in here?'_ Leaf asks, _' Really, Cricket?'_

 _'Must be madder than I thought,'_ Ell sighed, _'And I'm called the Crackling!'_

I look up to peek at the blue sky over Newt's shoulder. I have two hours or so until the next guard change.

"Why should I tell you?" I croak out, voice raw from disuse.

Newt's back straightens and his eyes shine.

 _He's proud of having gotten me to talk._

"Because if you tell your side...-" He tries.

"You won't believe it." I cut him,"I'm the _monster_ and Stubbs is the harmless civilian."

"You're not a monster." Newt denies it.

I give him a humorless half smile.

" **But I am,** " I tell him,"I never told any of you about the place I came from, did I?"

Newt goes quiet but he shakes his head.

"In the Arena, Robin, _everyone_ fends for themselves," I start,"There's no 'helping hand' or 'friends'. From the moment you come out of that Box, you are all alone against... everything!"

"When I woke up in the Box? I was **_terrified_** , I didn't know anything. I was a head shorter than I am now and I couldn't lift more than a small box. I was young and weak and stupid." I told him," And the first thing I saw in the Arena?"

I look him in the eye.

" _ **Was the bones.**_ " I whispered.

* * *

No one knew exactly how it all began. Tie told me Obie was the first one to wake up in the Arena, the very first, and that for the first year everything was okay.

Then Obie changed. Tie told me he'd heard stories of how Obie had been a pretty nice guy, until one day he started the Hunts.

Every fortnight, like clockwork. Everyone except the Hunters, Obie's friends, would wait for the Doors to open. And then they'd run.

One hour. Obie would give them one hour. And then he and his Hunters would run after the others and whoever they caught...

 _ **Whoever they caught they burned to ash.**_

In stakes, right beside the Box.

When I first came up from the Box, Tiger, one of his Hunters, grabbed me and tossed me right into the ashes. Bones _don't_ _burn_ as flesh does, they blacken but they remain and the first thing I remember seeing in my 'new life' was a pile of blacked bones beneath wooden stakes.

I was terrified before. After that I was struck speechless.

Two Hunts per month. Like clockwork.

 _ **And all we could do was run and not get caught.**_

Leaf saved my life, he saw me standing there among the ashes and bones, completely lost on what to do and he grabbed me and dragged me away.

"This is Cricket," He said to the others,"New guy."

And he'd drag me everywhere after that. He forced me to run faster than I had ever run before. Taught me how to fight, how to hide, how to kill... **Leaf taught me to survive in a world that would rather see me _dead_.**

Tie patched me up every time, told Leaf off for being so harsh with me and even taught me how apply emergency first-aid. Extremely simple. How to stop a bleeding and whatnot.

Ell... I really liked Ell. _Ell was different._ Ell wasn't all there, you see, so he didn't make sense all the time. _But the two of us just clicked._

I was with them for two years. _**Two years.**_ After two years in that god forsaken place I had seen more than thirty deaths. Either because of the Hunts, or because of the Beasts, or because they grew too sick or starved, or even because they were killed by other residents.

 **Thirty deaths.**

And I _couldn't_ care for any of them. _Because the moment you did you would lose yourself to the pain of living another day._

Leaf always told me we had to keep running. **We could never stop.** The moment we did was the moment we died.

 **And I believed him.**

 ** _Until_ Tie _died._**

See... Tie... _Tie was_ the _oldest._ He had arrived near the end of the first year, he hadn't talked with Obie at all until he changed so he couldn't tell us much, but he still had been the oldest out of all of us.

 **He was our _Leader_.**

And without him.. _. Leaf kind of fell apart._

I don't... I don't know _exactly_ how he died. I can only remember holding Leaf back along with Ell's help because the Doors had closed and Tie had never made it back.

 **He never returned.**

And the next day we couldn't find any trace of him. _It was just like he'd vanished into thin air._

And Leaf... **Leaf lost it.**

 _He lost whatever it was holding him in the Arena._

Ell chose to run alone that morning, I was stuck to Leaf, I always did in those days, so I was right there with him when he told me he didn't plan on going back to the Arena.

 _He stayed behind._ **On purpose.**

 _And the worst thing?_ **_I_** had to walk back, _alone_ , and _ **tell Ell**_. And I think a little bit of him died that day too.

We had to go back for him the next day, but it... _It was impossible to carry so many pieces all by ourselves._

 **We couldn't.** We had to _leave_ _him_ _there_.

So, it was just Ell and I. _**Just the two of us.**_

And I couldn't... _**I couldn't take it anymore...**_

* * *

"Do you know what it's like to give up?" I ask Newt quietly, eyes washed in tears," _It's when you're standing on the edge, **ready to jump** , and all you feel is **emptiness**._"

"You can't even summon the feeling of regret or anger or sadness." I tell him," **You're just empty.** "

" _You're still here._ " Newt's voice sounds haunted.

"Ell had traps _everywhere_ , the crazy bastard," I laugh brokenly," _I got caught on a spike, nearly died because of it, but it saved my life._ That's where the scar I have on my side is from, the round one."

"He was so mad at me, Robin," I told him,"Kept screaming at me about how I could be **_so_ _stupid_**. _**So weak**_. Because I had wanted to give up. He looked after me _constantly_ after that. Sat beside me the whole day, only leaving when I was asleep to get food and stuff. Always playing that _stupid_ guitar of his..."

"He had a guitar?" Newt laughed.

"Won that damn thing in a bet, Tie told him to get rid of the thing since it only made a giant racket when he tried to play it," I smiled, recalling those times,"He kept it. And he learned how to play the thing. _He loved it_ , the music, drowned out the cries and screams from the outside."

"He played any good?" Newt asked.

" _ **The best,**_ " I smiled," He wrote a ton of songs, all kept in this tiny notebook of his. I remember a few, but he had so many."

"You miss him," Newt sounded very sad.

" _He was the only one I had left, Robin._ "I said," _The last piece of my family I had left._ _**And I lost him.**_ I lost him and I was all alone and I... _I lost_ **it** _too._ "

I look back up at the sky above the two of us.

"When I woke up here, Robin, I had been running for _three days_ in the Maze. **Three straight days.** I had nothing left to loose, Robin. _**I wanted to die.**_ " I told him," _Instead_ , I woke up here. A nice place. A dream."

Newt looked startled.

" **I hated this place.** Or tried to, at least," I gave him a miserable smile,"They would've liked it here, a place were they could lay back and just... _breathe_. Without running. Without screams. Just... **Be**."I told him.

"But I **_can't_** , Robin. I already lost my family, I lost those I trusted the most," I said,"And what you expect me to do is to trust you too, and I can't. _ **I don't trust you.**_ "

"When you ask me for my side of the story I don't trust you to _listen_ to it and believe me. I don't trust you when Frypan comes to tell me I'll be back in the kitchen soon." I stress each sentence," I can't, Robin. _I just_ can't _._ "

" _ **Just try,**_ " Newt pleaded.

"For _what_?" I shook my head," I've already given up twice, Robin, I've already accepted my death twice. _What makes you think I have the strength in me to try and live again a third time?_ "

Newt is silent for a moment, head bowed, before he takes a shuddering breath.

When he looks up he has tears in his eyes.

"I gave up once too, I was a Runner," He began," Minho's partner. The first Runners. We mapped a large part of what we now know as the Maze."

"But the routine, the repetition of going into the Maze, map it, be back before the Doors close and then keep trying to find a way out..." Newt shook his head,"One day I just couldn't take it any longer."

"I climbed up a wall and I jumped. I got caught in some vines, Minho had to cut me down," Newt told me," I've had my limp ever since. When _I_ first woke up I asked myself ' _ **Why? Why couldn't I** **just**_ **die?** ' but then I saw what my attempt did to Alby and Minho."

"You didn't try again?" I asked him.

"No, I have bad days, some worse than others, but I'm a Track-hoe now, I feel like I'm helping more than I did when I was a Runner." He answered.

"You're doing better than me already... I tried _twice_. And I'm still figuring out a third." I told him," Thought you guys would send me into the Maze to get eaten by whatever exists in there, sure don't sound like Beasts to me."

"We call them Grievers," Newt said,"I'm going to get Alby to get you out of there. Just try again, Cricket... _Try_..."

"I thought we agreed I saw no reason to come out of here." I sighed," What's the point, Robin? _I don't **belong** here._"

" _ **One day you will,**_ " He tells me, so sure of his words.

I look into his eyes and I can see he believes in them. There's a strength inside of them I once saw in Leaf's own.

' _This is what Leaf would be like if he hadn't given up,_ ' I thought.

 _And for that reason alone I told Newt what had happened that day._

* * *

"I missed you, you shank!" Frypan laughed," No one peels potatoes as fast as you."

"Sure, stroke my ego, it only does wonders to it," I deadpan.

"Kitchen hasn't been the same since you left," Alec grins.

" _Way_ too quiet, and Frypan sulks when you're not here," Adam grins.

"Slim it, shank! I don't wanna hear that from you, you're the one that get glancing at his table at every opportunity," Frypan points a wooden spoon in his direction.

I chuckle at their back and forth.

"We're missing one, where's Pyro?" I ask.

The others all start laughing.

Frypan sobers up quickly though," One of the Sloppers died, Jim was friends with him, he's with the Baggers right now."

I think back on the Slobbers I know and try to remember if anyone looked sick.

"Twitch?" I ask," Brown hair, kind of skinny? Blue shirt, I think."

"Fynn, yes." Frypan nods," He's always been a bit ill but never thought he might actually die from it."

I nod.

"So..." Frypan claps," What do you wanna do on your first day as a free man again?" He asks.

"Apple." I tell him," _I want to eat an apple._ "

The kitchen burst into laughter again.

"Always with the food, Cricket!" "Knew he'd ask for something to eat!" "Don't ever change, Cricket!"

 _I smiled at the scene they made and, inside my chest, my heart hurt a little bit less._

* * *

...It's what you do with what you have left." \- Hubert Humphrey


	7. Chapter 6 - I'm going to get through

**\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 -** "I'm going to get through this; I'm going to be fine...

* * *

Gally wasn't happy with seeing me walking around a free man, _especially_ since he had spent two nights in the Pit for his troubles of trying to get rid of me. I thought Alby would be harsher, he did try to get rid of me and lied to Alby's face when asked for the truth, _(continuously)_ , but the injuries I had caused him were punishment enough.

So he only slept the night in the Slammer and was released by dinner time a day and a half later.

 _But he was not happy to see me._

I might've not helped that fact by ignoring him every time I passed him by.

While I was 'integrating' back into the Glade once more, helped by the fact that I knew each and every Glader now thanks to my near two months of isolation and forced interaction, I still had set backs.

I still cringed when people walked too close. I still wouldn't allow anyone to touch me. I still woke up scrambling to my feet every night, trembling and choking down sobs, trying to get rid of the tears washing my face.

 **My nightmares hadn't even gotten any better.**

Though they hadn't worsen either, so I counted _that_ a blessing.

My resistance to the awful weather of the Glade hadn't increased either so more often than not I was being drenched in cool water by Clint as he berated me for nearly getting _another_ sunstroke.

Ben still came over and talked to me constantly, rambling endlessly on about how his day had been with me finally getting one or two comments in, and Minho smirked at me each and every time he did.

I knew it was _his_ doing of having Ben talk about everything to me.

And I was glad for it, _I liked Ben._

 _I_ still _dumped a pot of hot pepper in his stew later._

I denied ever doing it, of course, it wasn't like Frypan would want to lose me from the kitchens.

And a week after I was released I was there to see the new Greenie show up.

Tall, long blond hair and green eyes. Idiot took off running for the hills as soon as he got his feet steady underneath him.

"Think he might make a Runner?" Ben asked me.

I followed the Greenie run up until the point Minho _(it was his and Ben's day off today)_ tackled him down.

"Sure... Can't do much worse than _you_ did last week," I grinned.

Ben flushed red and started spluttering incoherently. He had tripped down his feet and gotten himself a concussion, Minho had half carried him back as he tried to keep his eyes open and awake.

"It was an accident!" He yelped.

"Ya' still have the bump, shank," I half turn to him," And Memo is still giving you hell for it, which means I can still give you hell for it."

"How does that even work!" Ben squawks.

"Memo likes me," I shrug," He won't say anything against it."

"That is so not fair," Ben grumbles.

"Wanna try tell him that?" I look at him with a small grin.

Ben looks put out.

"How he likes you when half the time he's yelling at you for something is beyond me..." He huffs.

"Half the time I spend teasing you and each day you come back to tell me how your run was," I shrug," Same deal. And I can get you second helpings of food."

Ben grins," That always helps, doesn't it?"

I crackle," Haven't met someone you _can't_ befriend by them giving food."

Ben shakes his head with a smile," You're an _awful_ role model."

I shrug, unrepentantly," Never said I was, **_Boo_**."

"I still don't agree with that name!" He grumbles.

"Shouldn't have startled so bad that time then!" I gesture with my hand," Now I gotta go help Frypan get the supplies, I wanna see if the Creators sent anything good this time."

"You hoping for something specific?" Ben chuckled.

"Nah," I answer," Although I kind of hope they haven't sent any more anchovies!"

Ben laughs," If they have don't tell Minho!"

I grin," Oh, I don't know... I just might and set Fry on him later!"

 _It has been a good week._

 **Kind of obvious the night wouldn't end so well.**

* * *

"God shucking damn it, Cricket..." Clint sighed and he treated my hand.

I was looking away from him and flinching every time felt his fingers prod mine, but progress was due where progress was due.

I could _finally_ stand Clint tending small wound on my hands and arms, though I still had to be drugged up for anything else, but I wasn't all that comfortable with it yet.

"How did you do this?" He sighs.

"Punched a tree," I tell him before I hiss when he picks a splinter from underneath my knuckles, _'Repeatedly.'_

Jeff wasn't here, still sleeping as it was an hour or so past midnight when I woke Clint up because I had shucked up my hands, else he'd be making comments on how stupid I had to be to keep punching a tree after the skin had been broken.

"You're _lucky_ you haven't broken any fingers," Clint tells me," You gonna tell me what exactly happened?"

I shook my head silently.

Everyone was aware of my nightmares but no one knew what they were _about_. I mean, Newt could very well guess what they were about he knew about the Arena, but I hadn't told anyone of the nightmares.

 _Didn't really feel ready to, either._

"Fine, I'm not going to push you for it," Clint nods," I'm going to disinfect and bind your knuckles though, and tell Frypan you're not supposed to lift...- You know what? I'll tell him," He corrects himself.

"So much trust in me," I deadpan.

"Because you're the paragon of following medical advice," Clint rolls his eyes," There, you're good to go."

"Thanks," I get up from the cot," Sorry for waking you up."

"Cricket, you _dared_ not waking me up and going back to sleep with your hands like that I would've gotten Frypan to cut down all those apples I see you sneaking out to eat." Clint told me.

I gave him a choked off laugh," Tie would've said the same thing," I replied," Night, Memo."

"Night, shuck face."

"Still better than yours!" I whooped, dodging the shoe Clint threw at the back of my head," Careful you might injure yourself!"

I was thankful for my silent steps as I walked into the Homestead, passing by the door leading to the big room where most Gladers slept and climbing up rickety steps to the upper level, I do take notice of the way one of the steps slides slightly so I make a mental note to go bother Joe about it in the morning, and into my bedroom.

And it was now, officially, my bedroom. The Cooks and a few others, Ben, Minho, Newt and Clint, had all gotten together and arranged for the place to look more lively. So I now had a storage chest and a few knick-knacks strewn around the place.

 _'Idiots,'_ I rolled my eyes remembering, _' Doing things like that.'_

* * *

"The step was _slightly_ loose! _Slightly!_ It could've gone like that for another month at least!" Joe ranted at the lunch table from where he was surrounded by the other Brick-nicks.

"And now it doesn't need to be fixed for another three!" I tell him smugly," I don't really see a problem, Goose."

He glares and I hide back in the kitchen.

"How you even felt the step move is beyond me," Joe says," It was _barely_ loose."

"Center of balance shifted, you can thank your damn hammocks for that!" I yell back.

"How is that even related?" Joe asks.

"The hammocks shift constantly due to your weight and movement, I wasn't used to that so I kind of forced myself to adjust my center of balance every time it did, call it habit," I answered, poking me head out of the kitchen," So when the step 'barely' moved I automatically corrected my balance."

"How do you do that?" Minho asked from his table," The shuck did you go through to instill that instinct on you?"

"Climbing dead vines with Leaf," I tilt my head," And running on wet stone, it rained a lot back where I'm from and when you tried to run you'd slip and fall if you weren't careful."

"How often did you do that?" Ben asked wide-eyed.

I had become more 'open' to the fact I was from another Maze, though I didn't reveal any other the... 'events' the Arena had, so it wasn't unusual for people to ask me all sort of questions about it.

 _They had been pretty disturbed to find out there existed more places like these though._

"Ugh, depended on which section I ran in and who I was with. Tie _would not_ be caught dead climbing the vines, Leaf loved it and Ell... was unpredictable." I scratch the back of my head.

"Didn't you all run the same section?" Minho asked.

"No, all sections would be opened, and sometimes the other Doors opened too, on occasion." I explained," Your Maze is different than mine."

The Runners look kind of thoughtful.

"So if we took you on a run you would be able to find any clues on how to get out?" Minho asks.

I'm not even given a second to answer before Gally is going off the rails again about it being forbidden and Alby trying to keep everyone quiet again so I just go back to the kitchens.

 _I don't really plan on entering the Maze either way, I had enough of one for an_ entire _lifetime._

* * *

Summer is nearing.

I can feel the air getting hotter and more humid with each passing day and my good humor is fading fast to the bemusement of the other Gladers.

I don't really like having a shirt off because my back and chest are more like butchered meat than skin but when the weather makes in unbearable for me to even stand being in the kitchens I have no other choice.

Doesn't mean I don't get a tad self-conscious when people stare, disturbed at the sight of them, and give me looks of pity.

 _ **I don't want pity.**_

Each and everyone of this scars proves that I am still here despite all the crap I have gone through.

 ** _I'm_ still _trying..._**

Newt is certainly trying to keep doing it, that's for certain, always keeping an eye on me and bringing me out of my head when I am seemingly lost in thought.

"Work done for the day?" His voice makes me look up from where I'm sitting under the shade, the day is done and the air has cooled tremendously.

"Yeah, Fry told me to go dunk myself in cold water but the shade is nicer," I answered.

"Still not used to this?" He grins.

"I won't _ever_ get used to this unbearable heat," I scoff," I've spent two years in the Arena, three months won't change that."

"Has it really been that long?" Newt blinks.

I look up at him surprised," Ya' lock me up for almost two months, Boo can attest to that since I came out one week before Ace, and another month has gone by, Greenie is showing up the day after tomorrow."

"Doesn't bloody feel like it," He shook his head before flopping down beside me.

I grunt a bit and move slightly.

"It's been three months and you still not used to be this close to people?" He asks.

"The Cooks, mostly," I answer," Boo got pretty close yesterday but he backed off, Memo slapped me upside the head today and I didn't react." I muse," _That's something._ "

Newt sits up and looks down at me with a wide grin," That's bloody amazing, Cricket."

"So you say..." I sigh, looking up at the sky," Doesn't always feel like it."

"Aah..." He nods in understanding," Your nightmares haven't gone away," He tries to be sneaky with his question.

I roll my eyes at him," Keep out of it, Robin," I tell him.

"You need to talk to someone about them," He points out," Clint has told you that I'm sure."

"Memo knows I won't do it," I shake my head," You shanks wouldn't understand them."

"How so?" Newt tries again.

I sigh, the sky looks pretty tonight, I observe.

" _You just wouldn't understand..._ " I whisper.

* * *

The new Greenie was similar in height with me and had dark hair, his name was Rob but I ended up calling him Fibs when he kept trying to make ridiculous stories about his trial days with the Keepers, especially when he tries to make his time in Frypan's kitchen more memorable than it was.

He ends up with the Builders and I don't see him all that much, Gally makes their lives hell if they are 'friendly' with me. I personally find that stupid but to each their own.

Ben was with me today, Minho was talking Dan (the old Greenie) for a run in the Maze, unlike Ben he was having to test into the job. He had good speed but he wasn't the smartest of the bunch, Minho had to make sure he would able to remember how to return to the Glade before he could safely allow him to be a Runner.

 _So today was Ben's day off._

"If Dan joins us we might have to do switches around with partners, since there will be five of us," Ben was talking aloud," And no one runs alone."

"Or you just might add another Runner and have three teams running all the time," I suggest.

"No one wants to be a Runner," Ben shakes his head.

"You did," I point out.

"It was that or being a Slopper," Ben huffs," Or a builder but I like you and Gally doesn't."

"That is none of my business," I shrug," He can hate me all he wants, his opinion to me is meaningless."

"And that just makes him hate you more," Ben sighs," He doesn't like the way you ignore him."

"The day I _didn't_ ignore him I almost killed him," I give Ben a deadpan stare," It makes me wonder if he has anything inside that skull of his."

"Might have rocks," Ben grins.

"Or hay," I nod along," Maybe even flies, that's why he's so annoyed all the time, they're constantly buzzing in his ear."

Ben shakes his head, bemused," How old are you again?"

"Seventeen," I answer," You're... what? Sixteen?"

"Probably," Ben nods," You look way younger."

"Thanks," I grimace," Leaf gave me hell for it too."

"How old were they?" Ben asked.

"When I met them?" I turn to him, still chopping a bunch of vegetables.

"Yeah," Ben nods.

"Tie and Leaf were both seventeen and Ell was _nearly_ sixteen." I answer," I was fifteen, the youngest and the shortest of them all."

"The baby, basically," Ben grins.

"And they didn't let me forget it," I ruefully remember.

"If they were here..." Ben starts," What would they be?" He wonders.

"Those three?" I stop chopping," Hmm, Tie would love to be a Med-jack, he kind of liked patching us up, even if he always grumbled about having to do it."

"And Leaf?" Ben asks," Do you think he'd be a Runner?"

"No," I shook my head," Leaf loved the adrenaline of a fight and constantly moving, but he hated the Maze," I told him," _We all did._ "

"So...? Maybe he'd be a... Track-hoe? Or a Slicer?" Ben continues.

"Ell might've liked being a Slicer, but he'd probably have been a Builder, Ell _loved_ building things." I nod to myself," Leaf is hard to place, he wouldn't really fit anywhere, like me."

"You fit in the kitchens," Ben shook his head.

"I had been starving for three days when I first arrived here, if it had been Gally who'd given me food I might've been a little nicer to him than I am now." I chuckle," Working here meant I would always have food, even if I had to be sneaky about it."

"But you like working here." Ben assumed.

"I do _now_ , Fry and the others aren't bad people, and I got to know you shanks after my impromptu stay in the Slammer. Leaf..." I sighed," He wouldn't have been so easily talked around."

"Really?" Ben blinked.

"If it had been _Leaf_ in my place that day, Gally would've been dead," I told him," Leaf wasn't a very nice person and he hated having anyone telling him what to do, only Tie could and even then it didn't always work."

"Did you ever fight amongst yourselves?" Ben asked.

"It wouldn't be an interesting week if we didn't," I chuckle," But we curbed those fights into spars or challenges," I added.

"Did you ever have big arguments?" Ben asked quietly.

 _Memories flashed before my eyes._

"Yes," I answered in the same tone," But what family doesn't once in a while?"

Ben nods.

"Would you want to be a Runner?" Ben asks then.

I shrug.

"I would if Chief told me I had no choice, but I much rather be here, I'm tired of running, Boo." I sigh," For two years straight I ran without direction, just ran to survive, and I am _tired_ now. I could spend the next two years stuck in here feeding you lot and I would still be too tired to try and run the Maze again."

"Really?" Ben blinks.

"The Maze... _My Maze_..." I put the tomato I am holding down on the table," **It took something out of you each time you entered it** , try as you might, **each day would be harder than the last.** And you would ignore it the best you could because that was all that you could do."

"Boo, when you first started coming by my cell and talking about the Maze I thought _'He's really naive, and innocent, he wouldn't make it in the Arena'_ ," I told him," And you _**wouldn't**_. You're too damn nice, if you made it out of there it wouldn't be _**you** _anymore."

"Just as I am no longer the scared kid that I was back then," I gave him a tired smile," The Maze makes you _old_ , it ages you from the inside out, tires you completely, and **I** , Boo, **don't want to feel older than I already do.** "

Ben is sullen for a long while, sitting there beside me as I work. I almost forget he's even there until he suddenly grabs my wrist.

I jump slightly before looking down at his hand and then at him.

The everyone in the kitchen is staring at Ben like they've never seen him before.

"Boo, _I have a **knife** in my hand_, do I need to explain to you how _stupid_ it was to do what you just did?" I ask him, unperturbed.

Ben's face pales but he just keeps staring at his hand wrapped around my wrist.

"You're not pulling away," He breathes.

I blink at his words before frowning and looking down at his hand as well.

 **He was right.**

I wasn't pulling away. Didn't feel like I wanted to either.

 _'His hand is warm,'_ I keep repeating inside my head, confused," Why am I not freaking out?'

 _'You like him,'_ Tie shakes his head in exasperation, _' You've been talking to him constantly for two months, kid blabbers to you all the time and you haven't once told him to shut up.'_

 _'Same thing with Frypan and the others lately,'_ Leaf groaned, _' Are you that blind you haven't noticed it?'_

 _'Oh, little Cricket has grown attached!'_ Ell snickered.

 _Oh hell... I_ **have** _._

"Cricket...?" Ben asked, having let go of my wrist," You're kind of zoning out on us."

"Did you just break _my_ Cook?!" Frypan half-yells.

"I didn't mean to!" Ben yelps panicking.

"Why the shuck did you grab him?" Alec stares at him.

"Should we call Clint?" Jim turns to Fry.

"Maybe just wait it out?" Adam suggests.

"I can _hear_ you, you know," I huff, blinking my dry eyes.

"Oh, you're okay." They sigh. "Thank shuck for that!" Frypan shakes his head," Don't do that Cricket."

"Yeah..." I nod absently before I turn back to Ben, frowning.

"I am so sorry! I won't do it again!" He blubbers," I don't know what came over me, I just...-!"

I cut him off by patting his head.

The kitchen goes still again.

"It's okay... You just... surprised me." I tell him," Wasn't expecting you to do that."

They all blink, clearly not expecting _me_ to do that.

Ben looks like he's been handed the sun and I can't take the look of amazement he has in his eyes, I go back to what I was doing before he stopped me. I can feel heat rising from my neck and I am not looking anyone in the end.

I do notice Frypan's proud walk as he goes to tell Clint what happened.

I find it pretty annoying that the damn shank shows up as I'm dishing up dinner and loudly _(loud enough to be heard across the shucking Glade)_ congratulates me on not stabbing Ben with the knife.

I can hear Minho choke on his food and the rising commotion as everyone asks Ben what the hell happened.

The smug gleam in his eyes tells me that was his intention all along.

* * *

Dan becomes a Runner, Ben tells me the next morning, and Minho is still trying to figure something out so that no one is just left behind everyday. I can see him give me glances as I do small errands for Fry, such as telling Winston if he can have the Slicers deliver this or that to the kitchen or going to the Gardens and see if there's some specific vegetable we need, since I'm a lot more familiar with the Glade now.

Newt looks entirely too happy when I pass him by and Alby has come to see me once or twice and asked me how things are going.

I've gotten more used to have people walk by me, if it's someone I am comfortable with, and Ben helps with the whole 'Don't you dare touch me' thing I do. There's been some progress on that but I feel somewhat uncomfortable in overtly friendly gestures.

Such as Ben trying to bear hug me after I made him his favorite food.

I punched him pretty bad on instinct and was _so not worth_ the berating both of us got from Alby. But at least Minho was more amused by the whole thing than angry at me for punching Ben.

And Ben himself was beating himself up for making me accidentally punching him than upset I had punched him.

 _ **They were all** **so** ** weird.**_

My nightmares hadn't gone away yet. If anything they were _slightly_ more violent than before, I blamed that on knowing I was moving on, albeit slowly, from what had happened.

I had even caught myself thinking of what next month would bring and what I would be doing, having stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop and find myself back in the Arena. For all of this just be a mistake, an accident, and for it to be corrected.

I was starting to see this place was home. Maybe not yet, not truly, but _maybe_ I would one day.

I didn't share these thoughts with Newt but I was certain he knew from all the secret smirks he sent me when he saw me interacting with the others.

"Cricket!" I turned around to see Ben running full speed in my direction," Minho's asking for you!"

I frowned.

"Why?" I ask him, I didn't interact with Minho all that much.

"I don't know," Ben panted," But he's asking for you, c'mon."

 **I had a bad feeling about this.**

I followed him anyways.

* * *

" **No.** " I told him.

"We need one more Runner, to find a way out of here is our top priority, we can't have a Runner benched because he didn't have a partner to run with." Minho tries again.

"I am a _Cook_ not a Runner," I repeat myself," The answer is _no_."

"You've run in a Maze before!" Minho points out.

"Out of **survival** not of want!" I shake my head," I get where you're coming from Minho but I don't _want_ to be a Runner."

"Please?" Minho tries yet again," Just a _week_ , as trial, if you really don't like it I won't ask again!"

I sigh, Newt is neutral on the matter, he won't argue my decision, Frypan is annoyed they are trying to get one of his Cooks, Gally is in favor of me being a Runner _(and probably hoping I die)_ while Alby also wants me to be a Runner.

 _Finding a way out is the most important thing in the Glade, it's what gives them hope, and we can't slow that progress down no matter what._

I sigh.

" **One week** ," I shake my head," I will run for one week, Minho. But that is **_it_**." I tell him.

 _And that was that._

* * *

"So you're my new running partner, ye?" Hank nods at me," Nice to see you again, shank."

"You too, Dash." I roll my eyes," Haven't seen you since _breakfast_."

He laughs.

"True, 'cept you're always hiding back there or annoying Ben." He tells me.

"Annoying Boo is my favorite hobby," I deadpan," So? How we're doing this?"

"We're going to enter Sector 2 today, follow after Minho's team, then we split after lunch. I know the way back from that point so that's where we'll start." He answers.

"Forgive me if I don't really have that much hope on the matter," I sigh," Can't believe I agreed to this."

"Not excited?" He grins.

"More like dreading it." I answer.

 _And it's true._ Sleep was filled with memories of running through blood soaked corridors with forgotten corpses lying around strewn in place, I had spent half the night tossing and turning in my hammock as I tried to keep my breathing under control.

"It won't be so bad, you'll see." He shakes his head.

"So you say," I sigh," How much longer 'till the Doors open?"

"Few minutes at most," Hank answers looking at the sun," Getting anxious?"

"What do you think, shank?" I ask him.

"Sorry," Hank shrugs," Used to Dmitri not shutting up about how he's the one who's going to find the exit."

"If he keeps saying that it will probably be someone else," I tell him.

"Yeah?" Hank laughs.

I open my mouth to elaborate but the Doors start open at that exact moment.

"Time to go to work, shanks!" Minho calls out," Get ready to run!"

 _'Wonderful,'_ I thought to myself, _' Out of the pot and into the pan.'_

* * *

"How was your first day as a Runner," Newt asked me as I laid down on the shade.

"Better than I pictured it, your Maze is a lot more cleaner than mine," I answered with my eyes closed," How much longer is this horrible weather gonna last?"

"Aah, summer?" Newt snickered," A month or two more," He answered.

"I'll die before then," I groaned," It's _unbearable_."

"'S not so bad once you get used to it," I hear him sit down beside me and I don't move away.

"It's too shucking hot." I tell him," And you shanks are jacked in the head if you don't think so."

"Where did you hear that word?" Newt sounds as if he's frowning.

"Stubbs, where else?" I snort," Doesn't bother me any, the Arena had their own version of it."

"What was it?" He asked.

"Cracked or Crackling," I smile slightly," Ell was called The Crackling 'cuz he was the craziest bastard you could meet. _His traps were **legendary**._"

"Learnt how to make any?" Newt sounds curious.

"Learnt all of them, though I take too much time laying them down," I answered," My problem was always that, I took too much time getting them ready."

"So you didn't really lay traps like he did," Newt nods.

"Nah, I was more like Leaf," I told him," Run fast and always be prepared for a fight, I have a question, though."

"What is it?" He asks.

"Are Grievers secluded to one sector? I didn't see any today," I wanted to know.

"Grievers don't really come out during the day," Newt shakes his head," Why did you think otherwise?"

I take out my dagger from my holster," This here? Is a Beast's claw, Leaf had one just like this. They looked like mangled lions mixed with bulls," I tell him," They would show up suddenly and attack anything they saw."

"Half of the challenge of running in the Maze would be trying to escape those guys, or kill them." I shrugged.

"They came out during the day?" He breathed," And you fought those things?"

"Won twice," I smirk," Got the claw from my first, and I squished the second."

"And you never got hurt?" Newt blinks.

"' _Course_ I got hurt," I snort," Big damn scar on my back is from one and another nearly disemboweled me."

"How the bloody hell are you still alive?" Newt gasps.

"I'm _apparently_ hard to kill," I sighed," Did Minho said anything about me?"

"Why do you ask?" Newt asks.

"So he did say something about me," I muse aloud.

"Every Keeper has something to say about you," He scoffs.

"Oh? Am I that popular?" I grin slightly.

"More like intriguing," Newt answers," The more you open up, the more it becomes impossible to dislike you."

"Gally finds it pretty easy!" I laugh.

"Gally is _special_ ," Newt smiles.

"Too true," I smirk.

* * *

 **I have a minor panic attack inside the Maze two days later.**

"Jeez, I should've warned him!" Hank is trembling, evidently I shook him badly.

"You kind of should," Newt is pressing the bridge of his nose.

"'He' can hear you," I snap at both of them," It was an accident, alright! Let's move on!"

They both look at me upset but comply, it really wouldn't do anyone any good to dwell on it.

I had apparently found the sight where Carter died after being crushed by a moving wall. Which was quite evident since it was blood splattered and unused.

"You breathing okay?" Clint asks as he hears my heartbeat.

"I am fine," I tersely answer him," It just gave me-..."

"A flashback?" He guesses.

I sigh," Yeah."

"Want me to talk to Minho?" He offers.

"Memo, I have four more days of this and then I'm free for however long we are here," I roll my eyes," I can handle four more days."

"Just tell me if anything bad happens," He shook his head.

"Memo," I groan," _Nothing bad is going to happen!_ "

 _I said those words so easily._ Like breathing. I completely forgot what I had been taught by Tie, Leaf and Ell so damn easily.

 _ **You do not tempt fate.**_

* * *

...The power to do it is all in my mind." \- Cindy Wagner


	8. Chapter 7 - Running strips life back to

**\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 -** "Running strips life back to the bare essentials. When we challenge ourselves, it breaks down barriers...

* * *

That day... I remember that the morning was a lazy one. Running around the Glade under the still dark sky, then sparring against Leaf in the sand pit and finally having a cold shower.

I was half way decently awake when I went to help Frypan cook some eggs and bacon, devouring an apple he tossed me as I headed out the door to go meet up with the Runners.

 _Today was my last day as a Runner._

 **And I couldn't wait for it to be over.**

Now? I look back on that day, _sometimes_ , and I think if there was anything different from all the other six days I had been running the Maze. But each time I'm left at a loss.

There was nothing that screamed at me 'Something's wrong!', not even a small smidgen of unease in the air that could trigger my hyper vigilance into action, _there was nothing._

 **And that bothered me more than I could explain.**

I valued my senses too much back then, _too much_ , I took it for granted that I would be able to hear or sense a shift in the air that would tell me that something was growing closer and was going to attack.

I took it for granted despite that being one of the lessons I had been taught by Tie, Leaf and Ell to _never_ _commit_.

 **Never get too complacent.**

I had been locked in a cell for two months. In the one month I had been out here I hadn't done anything strenuous. I didn't even run everyday now, just when I was too restless, sparred infrequently with shadows and ghosts made up by my mind because no one here matched my type of combat.

Perhaps Gally had, even then, but I wasn't about to ask him of all people for a spar.

Newt... Newt might've made a good partner or Minho even, but I didn't feel comfortable enough to ask either one of them.

 _And so it was entirely **my** **fault** what happened._

No matter what the others tell me, the evidence they could present me with, I blame myself for what happened that day.

 _That unbearably hot miserable day._

 _ **The day I met, face to face, a Griever.**_

* * *

"C'mon, Cricket!" Hank yelled ahead of me," Don't be so slow."

"Get me out of this heat, Dash or I will tell Frypan to spice up your food so you can know the full meaning of speed when you're running down the Glade to the pot!" I yelled back, huffing.

My limbs felt heavy under this heat, my clothes light and loose made me feel as if I was wearing nothing, unused to how their clothes differed from my thick old ones, and I was annoyed by how my hair was loosely tied up at the back of my head.

Ell always let me borrow his hair ties so I didn't really have any of my own, _something I was regretting honestly_ , and that meant I tie it with a piece of thin cloth. I slipped down my hair as I ran and got loose more often than not.

Frypan had asked if I wanted a trim but I had all but ran out of the kitchen when he asked that. My long hair wasn't a story I was willing to talk about so soon.

Wasn't even a story I had any want to tell them either, it was none of their business if they found my long hair a liability _(even if it was, kind of)_.

"You wouldn't dare," Hank yells back but there's a faint tremor of something in his voice.

 _He_ knows _I would dare._ **I had before.**

Where did he think I came up with his nickname. Sure, Newt had given me that disapproving look of his afterwards and I had apologized _(that plate wasn't meant for him)_ and we'd spoken to each other on occasion.

"How much further to the checkpoint?" I asked, running up to stand beside him.

"Just a little bit longer, should be around the next corner," He answered," Think we might find the wall of this thing today?" He added his own question.

I thought back to my own Maze, the one I had run around for years, and projected it onto this one.

"We might," I nodded slowly,"Depends if we find any Peekers."

"Find any what?" Hank gave me a funny look.

"Peekers. That's what we called them in the Arena," I answered," Really big flat surfaces, sharp on the edges so you had to be careful around them, that stand vertical on the ground. When you get too close to them they start turning, some slowly some faster." I explain further.

"Why you called them Peekers?" Hank asked.

"Ah... See, that place was all the way on the edge of the Maze so if you ran all the way back and got side tracked by something, chances were ya' wouldn't make it back," I gestured," So Leaf and Ell, mostly those two, they used to drag me there to practice dodging and running around things."

"Wasn't that dangerous?" Hank frowned.

" _Everything_ in the Arena was dangerous," I shook my head," Anyways, that 'practice' was almost like Peek-a-Boo, you used them moving things in order to hide behind and not get spotted or hit by something."

"So you named them Peekers," Hank snorted.

"Better than some of the thing I heard you shanks named, 'Deadheads'? Seriously?" I gave him a disappointed look.

"It ain't me that named that!" Hank looked offended," T'was the first Gladers, ask Alby or Newt, those two have to know who exactly named it that."

"Maybe," I shrug non-committed.

"You don't like Alby much, do you?" Hank looked disappointed.

"It's not dislike per say," I shake my head," It's more like conflict of interests. Chief is the Leader here, and I am not his anything... So I kind of obey the 'rules' here but I don't belong in your whole 'community deal' thing."

"I think you fit right in!" Hank smiled.

"And that's why you're a Runner and not a Bricknick or a Builder, those shanks need brains to plan things out!" I laughed and ran up ahead, dodging Hank's swipe.

"I'll get you back for that one, shank!" He called out.

"In your dreams!" I yelled back.

I didn't like the Maze, it's white smooth stone and green ivy covered walls reminded me too much of what I had witnessed happening in similar surfaces.

 **So I blocked it out.**

I focused in the desired target of the day, ran with Hank there and then we'd run back to the Glade. It was simple enough that I could do it with one eye shut.

 _I had grown too used to the easy life of the Glade._

 **A mistake. _One I would_** **_never_ _repeat_ _again_**.

I had one single taste of what 'freedom' and 'easy life' and suddenly things like feeling the stone beneath my fingers or climbing up the vines for a birds-eye view of the place were pushed out of my mind.

Hank had been running for a little over seven months, he knew this Maze and its creatures better than me.

Except... ** _I forgot._**

 _I forgot one important detail and separated me from the other Gladers._

...

 **They had never been in a fight with a monster.**

* * *

"Wow..." Hank murmured in awe," Those things are huge."

"Peekers..." I nodded," We reached the end of this section," I told him.

"Did yours look like these too?" He asked, walking closer to them.

"These ones look like rust, no... Ours were yellow. Made your eyes burn when light shone on the surface," I laughed," Another trick they had, it would blind you for a few seconds, long enough for someone to catch you."

"I'm guessing you found a way around that little setback," Hank smirked.

"You learn how to fight with your eyes closed," I nodded," One of the first things Leaf taught me was that. If you can fight with your eyes closed, you can fight with your eyes open."

"Was it easy?" Hank mused aloud.

"Hell no," I scoffed," Broke my ribs twice, dislocated my shoulder half a dozen times, Tie forbid him from injuring me any more with those lessons after he nearly broke my jaw."

"Hadn't he learned of a little restraint?" Hank looked horrified.

" _Restraint didn't exist in the Arena,_ " I shook my head, voice distant," Leaf was doing what he thought was best. Toughen me up so that others wouldn't break me easily."

"Well, he succeeded in that!" Hank laughed as he turned around and walked closer to the Peekers.

He didn't see the grimace I wore on my face after he said that.

 _I_ had _broken. Several times already._

Hell, I wasn't even sure I had managed to patched myself back up at all!

"Think the way out is around here?" I hear Hank speak from further ahead of me.

I can't see him from where he's standing, already walking around the Peekers impressed, and that might've nudged a small concerned part of me because I started walking closer to him.

"Maybe," I answer," We never really bothered much looking for a way out," I added.

"Never?" He sounded surprised.

"Life is the Arena was... awful, no use trying to dodge that word, but it was all any of us knew." I shrugged," And we were kind of more worried about staying alive than looking for a way out. I knew my way around my Maze easily enough but if you ask me for directions I can't give them to you."

"They're automatic, responses gained from ingrained memory, I ran the Maze without thinking, not like you guys," I told him," Running around mapping it."

"Huh... Figured with a place like your you might've wanted to get out more than us," Hank replied honestly.

"Never crossed Leaf's mind. Or Tie's I think," I sighed," Ell did, he always spoke of places outside of the Arena. But Ell's... _Ell was **different**._"

"How so?" Hank sounds even further away from me than he was a minute ago.

"Ell wasn't... all there." I coughed," Sometimes he spoke and he didn't made sense at all. He'd be grinning like a loon one minute and the next he'd be gloomy, and _violent_..." I sounded faint.

"Hey, I think I found something." I hear him say," I think it's the way out!" He sounds happy.

I hear his running footsteps and chase after the sound.

He's quite a bit farther away from me than Minho would've advised but we could both see each other if he looked back.

 **Except he didn't.**

And from where I was staring at his back I saw _it_ approach before he heard it.

"Run away!" I shout, eyes wide in alarm.

There was something above him, a dark bulbous creature with all sorts of appendages poking out of it's back, four large metal legs were attached to its sides, like a spider, with shorter limbs made of flesh _(was that even flesh?)_ barely touching the surface it stood on.

It's mouth opened wide, allowing me too see a large array of needle thin teeth, and it shrieked. Hank half turned, startled, and looked up.

 _ **He froze.**_

 _'Oh, he didn't just do that,'_ My mind stopped working at the sheer stupidity of that move.

" _ **If something looks like it's going to eat you for lunch you don't stop and stare at it!**_ " I yell, snapping him back to reality," Run you huge Slinthead! _**Run!**_ "

Hank turned towards me and started sprinting in my direction.

So of course it had to be at that moment that the Peekers decided to start moving.

 _'Oh, fucking hell...'_ I moaned, this was a fucking nightmare.

"We're gonna get trapped," Hank's eyes were blown wide and his breath stuttered.

"Not if we can run faster than them!" I grab his arm and pull him along as I run, "That thing can't be that fast, can it?!"

"I don't know! They're never out when it's day!" Hank told me.

"What?!" I snap," Well, _obviously_ this one didn't get the memo!" I push him to run faster.

The clicking sound of it chasing after us along with the deep metal groaning of the Peekers as they move resonates in my bones.

My heartbeats increase and I have to breathe through my nose before adrenaline overtakes me.

"Dash, you know this place like the back of your hand," I start," Which way is the fastest way out of here?"

He thinks for a second," Take that right!" I points.

I nearly bowl him over with how strongly I pull him aside suddenly.

A metal leg punctures the wall where his head once had been.

Hank turns white as milk.

"Oh god..." He moans.

" _Don't think about it!_ Focus on running and telling me where to go!" I snap at him, there was _no time_ for freak outs right now.

"Left!" His voice cracks, "There's going to be a long hall, you have to reach it and turn left again!" He tells me.

I don't say anything more to him, pulling him or pushing him out of the way of the creature, it was gaining on us thanks to the fact that it had four legs, each bigger than our whole bodies, and wasn't worried about where it was headed.

"This isn't going to work..." I murmur to myself," This thing won't stop chasing after us, it's not slowing down, we're one hour or so away from the Doors..."

"What are you saying?" Hank sounds very scared, breathing harshly and irregularly, his panic is making it hard for him to breathe.

"You can't keep sprinting for one hour straight with this thing after us..." I tell him," We're gonna have to split."

"WHAT?!" He freezes once more and it's only my quick reflexes that prevents him from being skewed.

"You're leaving me?" He sounds near tears.

"More like you're leaving me, buddy," I huff," You know the way to the exit, _I don't_ , but I can run a lot more than you do and I've fought uglier bastards than this," I tell him.

"What are you saying?" His eyes are filling with tears.

"I'm saying that on my mark you're running towards the exit and you will not look back," I tell him, booking no arguments," You're gonna run and you will not fucking stop until you're back on the Glade!"

"What about you?!" He shakes his head," I'm not leaving you!"

"You are!" I grunt, pushing both of us to one side and ducking out of another stabbing leg," I can't get rid of that thing while I have you to worry about! Get to safety, I'll find my own way back!"

"No!" He yells back," Runners do not leave their partners behind!"

"I'm not even an actual Runner!" I snap at him," Get to the fucking Glade, I'll find my way back!"

"You ca-!" He tries to tell me something more but I stop him.

"Now!" I push him away from me and into a corridor, he trips on his feet but he doesn't fall down," Now run like hell, Slinthead!" I shout at him before I pull my dagger out.

I turn around a different corner and am relieved to see that the damn creature decided I made for a better appetizer.

"Sorry, Igor, Ya' trying to bite more than ya' can chew by messing with me..." I laugh to myself," If the Beasts had no luck with me, than ya' ain't getting lucky either."

I run across hallways, duck between legs and ignore its loud shrieks as best as I can, I employ techniques taught to me by Leaf and Ell, how to feign movement and confusing it, prompting it to move out of the way as I double back, jump over it and ran back to where I left Hank.

I didn't really recognize the walls, they all looked the same to me but I somewhat remembered that there was a moving wall somewhere around here. **_I just needed to find it._**

* * *

I was officially impressed. These things would probably put the Beasts through the wringer, tenacious little bastards those things were, since it'd been chasing me for nearly half an hour and it still hadn't lost interest.

It had lost on leg though, so props to me for that.

And it looked as if it was bleeding, it was hard to tell.

 _It was getting dark._

 **That wasn't good.**

I seriously hoped Hank had the good graces to reach the Glade and stay there until I found my way back. If I made it back only to be told the idiot had gone back in to try and find me I was going to have 'words' with him.

 _'Back in the Arena you wouldn't have cared,'_ Leaf ran beside me, uninterested, _' You'd have tossed him to that thing so you could run ahead.'_

 _'Hank's the only one who knew the way back,'_ I snap at him.

 _'So you say,'_ He rolls his eyes, _' It's still true.'_

I ignored him. **Who I was inside the Arena _wasn't_ who I could be inside of the Glade.**

 _'If only it was that easy, Cricket...'_ Leaf sighs, _' But you already know that also.'_

I roll under a lunge from the creature, a... a Griever?, _was that what it was called?_ , and dart past it to another corridor.

I felt like I was running in circles inside these walls, I hated it.

 _'You and me both,'_ Leaf grunts, _' You should go left,'_ He tells me.

I don't pause and ask why, I turn left.

Leaf always led me in the Maze, that wasn't going to stop now.

 _'Don't get sentimental on me, Cricket!'_ Leaf groans.

 _Wouldn't dream of it..._

I run back and forth for another half hour or even an hour, maybe, the Doors would be closing soon and I was officially lost.

Damn thing was definitely bleeding now, I had managed to carve out a large chunk of its back with my dagger, incidentally cutting myself in one of the appendages on its back, and it looked disorientated.

Well... _That made two of us._

 **I was out of shape too.** I was growing tired, my legs burned, I wasn't used to this level of activity anymore and I was paying for it.

As it was, I had friction burns, scraps and most likely bruises littering my back and arms. My hands were slick with blood from where I had opened one of them and banged the other on a tight corner I had ran into.

' _You're close to the Doors now,'_ Leaf suddenly said, _' That mark looks familiar.'_

I spy that 'mark' from the corner of my eye. It's one of Minho's old tags, Ben'd talked about them before, he used to cut out a mark on the wall so he'd know his way back.

He only did it in the inner ring, as the Runner calls it, of the Maze.

 **I was close.**

 _'Just a little bit longer,'_ I told myself, _' I just need to run a little bit longer!'_

 **Hope.**

 _That's a strange emotion to bubble up inside of you._

 **Dangerous too.**

Since when hope bubbles inside you, you think that you can do it, that you're invincible or something. And then life proves you wrong... And if you're not careful...

 _ **Losing that hopes takes a lot more out of you than you'd expect.**_

* * *

"LOOK OUT!" Someone tackles me out of the path of a striking leg.

I grunt as I hit the ground, hard, and I jump to my feet in a second, incidentally pulling up whoever it was that had tackled me.

I recognized his hair before I recognized his face.

"Dash?!" I yelp," _Fucking_ **_idiot_** , what are you doing here?!" I want to shake him but can't, too busy running.

"You were taking too long! Minho's freaking out! Newt's freaking out! Ben's locked in the Slammer after he tried running back inside once I told him what happened!" He's breathing hard.

"So you decided to run back in and try and find me?" I groan," I thought we had a deal, Dash!"

"No, you pushed me and led that thing away, I never said I wouldn't run after you!" He denied," And Runners do not leave partners behind, Slinthead!"

I snort," Nice to hear that, idiot, thanks for the save back there," I tell him," Now tell me the way to get out of here, I've been walking in circles for an hour."

"You serious?!" Hank's face is sweaty and pale but his eyes burn with amusement," You _actually_ got lost?"

" _ **Slim it!**_ " I growl," I don't want to hear anything from you!"

"I'm so telling Minho this," He grins.

"Directions, _now_!" I bark at him, dodging another stab from the creature.

"Right! Run to the end of the hall and then take the left most turn," Hank replies," After that, you take a right and the Doors should be right in front of us!"

"How much longer 'till they close?" I have to ask.

"Give or take five minutes," He tries to smile but it comes off shaky.

"Yeah, I've worked with worse odds!" I laugh," C'mon, we're getting out of here!"

When we turn around the corridor to the Doors we can see every Glader staring at us with shock and amazement, obviously no one had lasted this long against one of those damn things, and started hurrying us up.

 **The Doors started closing.**

"Hell no!" I yell, pushing myself harder," I ain't sleeping with that thing!"

Hank laughs, unbidden, and clutches tighter to me.

"Don't laugh, run!" I'm pissed that he's finding this amusing.

We make it with just a few seconds to spare before the Doors close.

Frypan has me in a bear hug (triggering to make me fight off his grip) and is telling me something but I don't listen.

Because it is then that I get a glimpse of Hank's back and see blood pool on the back of his shirt.

"You got hit," I breathe in shock.

Hank turns to me, his back facing the now pale Gladers, in confusion.

"What?" He asks.

"You got fucking hit!" I run to him and pull the back of his shirt up, heart beating wildly in my chest.

It was a single round wound, wasn't bleeding much, and I breathed a sigh of relieve. _It couldn't be bad if it was **such a small thing**._

I turned to tell Clint about it but I stopped when I saw the looks on the Gladers faces.

 _The closed off expressions they wore._

 **Something was wrong.**

"What is it?" Hank asks, trying to see his own back over his shoulder.

"It's a dot," I answer him," Like a...-"

 **"He's been stung."** Alby cuts me off.

"Stung?" I frown, turning to Hank to see how pale and wild eyed he looks now.

"No..." He shivers.

"What does that mean?" I eye Alby carefully, letting the shirt fall down Hank's back again," How bad can that little thing be?"

Newt looks away and Minho's eyes lower.

Dmitri is by far the worst off, he's looking at Hank like he's a ghost.

"It means he'll go through the Changing." Alby answers," And no one recovers from the Changing."

 _That sounded awfully familiar with something I knew about._

 **But it couldn't be.**

 _Could it?_

"And that means?" I asked, stepping in front of Hank," You're scaring him," I tell them.

"No. No. No," He's trembling behind me,"I can't be stung...!"

"Step away from him," Alby orders.

I narrow my eyes and widen my stance in front of Hank.

"What does that mean?" I repeat my question.

"It means he's going to very sick, very fast," Newt tells me, slowly walking up to me," And he's going to be in a lot of pain."

 **That sounded _too_ _familiar_ to me.**

 _I shudder as I remember it._

 **I _know_ what he's going to say.**

"He'll become very violent, he's going to attack everyone on sight, and..." Newt takes a deep breath.

 _ **He's going to try and kill anyone he catches his hands on.**_

 _I know what this is._ **I've seen it.** _I knew what this meant._

"You need to step away from him," He tells me," We gotta get him to the Pit."

 _ **No.**_

 _I couldn't let them do that. **Hank**_ _hadn't done anything wrong._

"I-I-I'm... Sorry!" He shivered behind me, hand clutching the back of my shirt.

Had it been on any other occasion I might've poked fun at him but in this situation that only made the _overwhelming_ _need_ to protect grow stronger.

He was taller than me, though we were the same age, and he had always been a braggart type of guy. But he was cowered behind me, shivering and muttering apologies in that shaky tone of voice that sounded suspiciously wet.

My mind knew that 'stung' meant he was going to end up just like him... **_It knew._**

 _I **understood** that._

 _But my heart was already broken, slowly mending back together, and it **couldn't bear** the thought of losing another to **this**._

"Get away from him," I tell them,"He has done nothing wrong to be put there."

The Gladers shift from foot to foot uneasy.

Gally sneers and goes to say something but Alby stops him.

"That isn't your decision to make," He shakes his head,"If you don't step away from Hank now, we're going to have to force you to." He tells me.

 _I was tired._ The sun burning my skin even with its now weakening light and I had been running since the early morning back and forth inside the Maze. I could hold my own with a couple of them, but not all of them.

 _I wasn't going to win this._ **I knew that.**

 _ **They** knew that._

But even still I had to try _._

I _couldn't_ stand aside and do nothing. Hank had been stung _because_ _he pushed me aside._

 **He took a hit for me.**

 **Like him.**

 _No..._ I could not ignore what was happening in front of me. **_I would not back away from this fight._**

I strapped my dagger in its holster and brought up my fists. I didn't like fighting unarmed, but I sure as well wasn't half bad at it.

Alby sighs and closes his eyes, "So be it."

* * *

I'm tied up and sedated in the infirmary, Clint berating me for my choices, poor orientation skills and the fact that I had way too many scratches and bruises I had not thought about until he started poking them.

They burned but I kept quiet.

Newt wasn't here, neither was Frypan or any other Glader.

There was a meeting happening right now about Hank's fate which all the Keepers were attending, the Baggers were watching Hank in the Pit and the Runners were benched until further notice.

Ben had tried to come and see me, he had refused to attack me, but he'd been forbidden from doing so.

Clint was the only one here, bandaging me up and keeping a steady stream of words running so I would not be in complete silence.

My ribs hurt and I was a lot more bruised than I was before, but it was nothing I hadn't worked with before so I wasn't overly worried about it.

"You are the biggest Slinthead I have ever met, Cricket," Clint sighed, sitting down beside my bed. My eyes trailed after him with some difficulty.

My body weighted a ton and I inwardly groaned at how long it'd take me to be able to move freely.

"Rest," He shook his head,"Get some sleep, you're not going anywhere until tomorrow morning. And that is if Alby doesn't tell me to keep you here longer."

I narrow my eyes, try to at least, but that only makes a yawn escape me. Clint's quiet chuckle sounded far off to my left but I knew he was right beside me.

"Sleep," He told me.

I didn't really want to but as soon as my eyes drooped closed it was a losing battle.

 _My sleep wasn't restful though._

* * *

I jolted awake, gulping air and clutching at my throat, heart beating wildly in my chest and I shiver against the cool air of the night on my too hot skin. I was still woozy from the sedative, body numb and refusing to move correctly, but I could sit up and move slightly.

I pushed the blanket off of me and slid out of the cot, stumbling to my feet, vertigo hit me as soon as I stood upright and I nearly fell back onto it. I closed my eyes and breathed in but gasped when all I could see when I closed my eyes were his hands around my throat again.

 _I feel sick._

 **I need to get out of here.**

Clint is asleep in another cot, snoring softly under his own blanket, and I stumble lightly on my feet. The floor creaks underneath me and I swear under my breath because my balance is out of wack. He doesn't wake up, thankfully, and I walk out of the infirmary and into the night covered Glade.

The air is a lot cooler outside than it is inside, I'm grateful for it, so I breathe deeply and hold it in. Calming myself, centering my mind in the reality that it was nothing more than a dream and that the ghost feeling around my throat is nothing more than a memory, _a very dark and unforgettable memory_ , and that it's not real.

 _ **Not anymore.**_

 _I am safe._

 **Possibly.**

I'm tempted to go check on Hank in the Pit but the fact I couldn't take more than five steps without stumbling and that the Pit would most likely be under vigilance stopped me for a moment.

It was probably a very bad idea to go and try to walk there, if I was unlucky Alby or Gally would be the ones keeping watch over him and I'll be dragged back to the infirmary and put under. Again.

I blew air through my nose.

'Can't let them do that,' I shake my head,' I have to be awake tomorrow.'

So I lie down on the grass under a nearby tree, still in sighting distance from the infirmary, and let myself stare at the sky.

I don't want to fall back asleep, I don't want to dream again, be chased by shadows and screams I recall but don't recognize. So I just lie there, feeling the cold earth underneath me damp my clothes slightly.

I just lie there for what feels like hours. In the cold grass underneath the moonlight and leaves.

My lungs are breathing easier now, lulled into a state of half-consciousness by the wind rustling the trees and the distance sounds of the animals inside the barn. Half forgotten and nostalgic melodies filt through my head and I hum along quietly.

I feel my eyes closed again and I try not to fight it, despite my reservations, because I am so relaxed I don't want it to end by getting myself worked up. So I let my breathing even and be pulled into quiet indistinguishable dreams.

Dreams I always forgot the following morning, disjointed memories that made no sense to me, broken into unrecognizable pieces, that held little or no value to me.

'Remember...-' Someone was whispering to me,'Promise me, P...-' The voice sounded muffled.

'Wicked is good,' That voices sounded right in my ear.

 **Wicked is good...**

Those words...

 **Familiar...** Distant... **Haunting...**

For some reason... I frowned at those words.

I wouldn't remember this in the morning, _I never did._

 _ **But I didn't believe in those words.**_

* * *

...It brings us back to our essence and peels away the layers of ego we surround ourselves with." \- Grahak Cunningham


	9. Chapter 8 - No beast is more savage

**\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

 **Chapter 8 -** "No beast is more savage than man...

* * *

Newt was looking at me fondly when I opened my eyes.

"Clint was freaking out, you know?" He chuckled," Couldn't find you anywhere."

I groaned, "The door is right there," I pointed sitting up," How the hell didn't he see me?"

"He didn't even think for a second you'd have left the cot inside to sleep on a patch of grass outside, Slinthead." Newt sighed, amused," C'mon, we gotta go tell him you're fine or he's going to get mad at _me_ for not bothering to do so."

I huff," It was too hot inside," I yawned," Grass was cool."

Newt snorts," Yeah, I can see that, shank."

I got up and stretched, feeling my skin pull where I had scratches and bandages, and followed after him sleepily. I usually woke up bright and early pretty alert for anything that could happen but whatever it was that Clint had used to sedate me was persistent and still active in my system.

Newt seemed to know that because he looked entirely too amused by the way I yawned every few seconds.

"Alec or Jim will bring you breakfast," Newt tells me,"So all you need to do is stay in the cot and sleep off the sedative."

"I'm awake..." I yawn.

"For how long?" Newt smirks," You're falling asleep as we speak."

"I am not falling asleep," I glare at him, walking up to the infirmary," I am perfectly awake."

"Then why are your eyes so shiny?" Newt asks, amused.

I raise an eyebrow at him," So focused on my eyes, Robin?" I ask him, teasing.

"Pretty eyes," Newt shrugs," I like their color."

I fight back the rising blush that threatens to climb my neck," Thanks, I would say the same but I like your hair better."

Newt blinks before laughing," Think I have pretty hair, Cricket?"

I definitely blush this time," Slim it, I said I liked your hair better than your face!" I half yell at him and go inside.

Newt doesn't enter, staying outside and laughing himself silly about that comment.

It was a lazy morning, Clint gave me hell for disappearing during the night _(ignoring the fact I was less than ten feet away from the infirmary)_ and Alec brought me oatmeal. We talked for a while, telling me how things had been since yesterday.

He clammed up faster than I had seen him get his hands out of the jam jar when Fry enters the kitchen when I asked about Hank, though, so I was left with a heavy weight of guilt and worry each time he diverted the question.

Clint wouldn't tell me anything and the moment I tried to take matters into my own hands he and Jeff had quickly tied me up so I couldn't go see him.

 _That **definitely** raised my hackles into high alert._

I tried to get loose without harming the rope or my wrists but they had done their research. I could get out of these, of course, it would hurt a bit maybe even cut skin but I could get free.

 _I wouldn't be caught and trapped by flimsy ropes again._

 ** _Never again._**

 _Just as I wasn't going to lose a friend for something that was **my** **fault**._

None of the Runners had come and see me, neither had Alby, but I had seen Ben trying to peek through the window before he got dragged away.

 _They were purposefully being forbidden from seeing me._

Newt hadn't come back, though I thought I had heard his voice speaking in hushed tone with Clint an hour or so after I had briefly woken up from a nap. I was more awake, a lot more awake now, than I was in the morning but I kept pretending I was still roughly under half of it.

My gut told me it would be best if they believed that, and in times like these I followed my gut feelings.

Which proved to be the right thing to do when I heard screams and incoherent yells coming from the main area of the Glade ten or so minutes before the Doors were supposed to close.

I kind of listened to the screams and blinked, confused, until a memory clicked and I paled.

 _ **It couldn't be true.**_

 **No.**

I twisted out of the ropes, ignored the sting of my wrists burning and the blood start to show from where I was fighting the ropes off harshly tugging them free.

I get loose and I dart out the infirmary and towards the Doors.

The screams were loud, violent and so damn similar to what his had been that my heart stopped and my lungs froze.

I stumbled and nearly fell but kept running, coughing and choking for breath before getting it under control, and running twice as fast as I had towards the Doors.

 _I saw them,_ the Gladers, forming a half-circle around the Doors, with 'T' shaped sticks and sharp spears, with Minho pushing a tied up Hank in front of him towards the Doors.

 **No.** _No, they **couldn't** be doing this._

"No..." I gulped in air, eyes widening and my hands started shaking.

 _Or maybe my whole body was shaking._ **_I don't know._**

I ran towards them but was spotted before I could enter range.

Jason, a Builder, tackles me to the ground.

"The hell?! You're supposed to be in the infirmary!" He yells, struggling to hold me down," I need help!"

 _"Let me go! Let me go!"_ I clawed at his arms and face, being careful to not purposely harm his eyes, _ **" LET ME GO!"**_

I kick him between the legs and he goes down with a whine.

I launch myself to my feet and start running back towards the Doors, Minho has tossed something over to the other side, while Hank breaks down crying, pleading them to not do this.

 _ **That he could get better.**_

 _'He can't,'_ Leaf murmurs, _'He can't get better.'_

 _'No one does,'_ Tie nods beside him.

 **Ell is silent.**

 **Ell is standing right there.** _**Silent.**_

 _Standing on the **other** **side** of those doors._

 **No.**

 _Nononono..._

I ran faster.

"DASH!" I scream," What are you doing!" _I'm so close now._

 _Just a_ few more _steps._

 _Run faster._

 **FASTER!**

 _ **RUN FASTER!**_

I'm tackled to the ground again, Stan and Ric try to pin me down between the two of them. I punch one viciously in the ear and he lets go, stunned, while I twist the other's hold on me by rolling us both on the ground. Once on top of him I just hit him on his sternum.

Not enough to break it, only to leave him winded, and I waste one second making sure he will be fine _(Tie showed me the signs of it going wrong)_ before I run back to Hank.

He sees me, face washed in tears, but there's a glimmer of _**hope** _in them.

 ** _Someone was trying to save him._**

The Doors started closing then.

 **And that hope started _fading_.**

 _No._

 **NO!**

 _ **NOOOO!**_

I bolted, dodging their attempts of grabbing me, right towards the middle of them. The only opening in their formation was by barreling right through them.

 _'You're not going to make it,'_ Leaf murmurs quietly in my ear.

 _'Stop now,'_ Tie turns away.

 _But I **can't**_.

Because Ell is _still_ _there_ , standing beside Hank, on the other side of the Doors. _And Ell doesn't have his pack._

 ** _He doesn't have his knives and sling._**

 _He has **nothing** but the clothes on his back._

I _**couldn't** _let those Doors close... _The moment they did..._

 **They _(He)_ would be dead.**

"DASH!" I shouted, jumping over the the first Glader who tried to grab me and rushing past the guards.

I hear someone swear behind me but I ignore it.

I can see the whites in his eyes. _Pupils blown in **fear**._

A single shard of hope lost the moment I feel arms wrapped around my waist, hands gripping the back of my shirt.

"DASH!" I yell reaching out for him.

 ** _But I can't._**

My fingers barely graze the cold surface of the smooth white Door as it closes on his face.

I saw Hank murmur one last word:

 _ **"Cricket."**_

* * *

My heart _stops_.

 _All the air leaves my lungs and I can only see..._

 **Ell.**

 _Standing right there beside me. **But he's not the Ell I know.**_

This Ell has black veins running down his body, bloodshot eyes, wide _wide_ eyes, and a bloody grin on his face.

His blond hair falls down his shoulders in oily clumps, some of it pulled from his scalp, bleeding, and his clothes are torn in places.

His hands are bandages but blood drips from them, his boots are tied clumsily and he's standing crookedly over me.

 _'What were you expecting, little one?'_ He asked in a wet rasp, _'That **this** **time** would be different?'_

I was being pulled back from the Door and I couldn't move my body. **It _wouldn't_ obey me.**

 _'Shock,'_ Tie sighed.

 _'It was to be expected,'_ Leaf nods, _' It was bound to happen once this was triggered.'_

I ignore their voices, all voices, but Ell's.

Ell, who still stands at the Door, smiling.

 _'Did mine look similar to this?'_ He asked with a rattling cough, _'Did I have this many people come to my party?'_

 _No._

 **Just me.**

 _No one stayed behind._

 **Just me.**

 _The last one._

 ** _The cursed one._**

 _The survivor._

 _'A shame...'_ Ell coughed again, _'Did you cry?'_

 **Cry?**

I remember that night. **I didn't cry.** _I didn't have the strength to._

 _I felt numb._

The whole night awake, listening, to his voice.

 _'Not my voice!'_ Ell yelled, lunging at me.

 _ **His cold, cold hands wrapped around my throat and I did nothing but stare into his dead eyes.**_

 _'My screams,'_ He rasped.

My mind replays it, over and over and over again until I can't see anything else but bloodstained stone and dripping red cloth hanging from ropes.

 _'Just as you will hear his,'_ Ell's hands tighten, _'And it was all your fault.'_

 _And then he's gone._

* * *

 **Rage.**

There is rage inside of me, bubbling, festering, climbing higher into my mind and making me feel... numb.

 _Like it **didn't** matter._

 **Just the rage.** The _**anger** _mattered.

 _The fury burning inside of me was the **only** **thing** that mattered._

 **And I didn't care.**

 _ **I did not care anymore.**_

 **I was done.**

 _No more._

"No more..." I murmured," _No more deaths..._ "

"Hey, hey! Can you hear me?" Clint was moving his hands in front of my eyes.

 _No... Not Clint..._

 _He wasn't **Clint** anymore._

 _He was... **someone**..._ _A_ _**stranger**_...

 **I didn't know him.**

 _ **I didn't know anyone.**_

 **They were Gladers.**

 _And I was..._

 ** _...I was the monster._**

"What have you done..." I spoke suddenly," _**Do you know what you have done?**_ "

"He was stung." Alby, _no he's not Alby anymore is he?_ , said.

"You cast him out," My voice sounds faint.

"He attacked Newt and I this morning when we tried to get him to say what had happened," The guy spoke," We have rules here, and he broke them."

"So you cast him out to die...?" I can't keep the confusion and betrayal out of my tone.

"He's been banished, he belongs to the Maze now," He actually sounds as if he believes that.

 _Hilarious._

 _ **So fucking hilarious.**_

I laugh.

"You actually think that?!" I jump to my feet and turn to face him, back to the Doors," He _won't belong to the Maze for more than six hours_ before he's _**tore apart by what lives in it!**_ " I snap at him.

They remain silent. _**Speechless.**_

I laugh again, clutching my head.

"When I came here... When I first woke up here I _thought_ , ah!" I laughed," _**I thought you were so**_ **different** _ **!**_ "

I looked them all in the eye.

"You were nothing like the Arena." I sound confused," I was _amazed_. **_How could this be?_** How could a place like this _exist_? It had to be a dream of some sort!"

I laugh again, ignoring the tears falling from my eyes," _**But it was all a lie.**_ "

"What?" Frypan frowns, _he's not Frypan!_ , and tries to take one step closer.

" _Stay right_ **there** _, Glader._ " I snap at him," _**Don't get any closer!**_ " I yell at him.

 _They look astonished._

"I thought you lot were different than them... But I was _**mistaken**_." I told them," _**You are just like the monsters of the Arena.**_ "

The Leader looks offended, he takes one step closer but stops, freezing in his steps.

 **I clutch my dagger in my hand.**

 _I wasn't playing with kid gloves anymore._

" _ **You have sent Dash to**_ **die** _ **,**_ " I speak slowly," _**To be killed**_ , _horribly_ , _**all alone in the dark**_ by the monsters we _**barely** _escaped from yesterday. _And you know what his last thoughts will be?_ " I ask with a sneer.

"It will be that his _**family**_ , _the only people he knew_ and _trusted_ , _**are the ones that locked him out there.**_ That **no one** stepped up and tried to protect him, _**like he was worthless**_!" I yell at them.

"He was stung," The Leader snaps," He would have attacked anyone he saw!"

" ** _They you should've killed him yourself!_** " I snap back," You drugged me to keep me 'in check' you don't have an excuse for not having done the same to him and killed him while he slept!" I yell in rage.

"We do not harm-...!" He tries to speak but I cut him off.

" _ **It would have been merciful!**_ " I punch the Door, cracking the stone, ripping the skin off my knuckles, I don't even flinch," **He is going to die screaming...** Are you going to _stay up and listen_ to him?" I look him right in the eyes," Or are you going to sleep, _comfortable in your bed_ , while he runs through those paths, _**uselessly**_ , until he can no longer run and is caught by those creatures?"

 **The Gladers are silent.**

 _They stare at me like they've never seen me before._

 **Maybe because they haven't. _Ever._**

" _ **I have,**_ " I cry," **_I have stayed up all night listening to my_ brother's _screams while he was tore apart by Beasts,_** " I tell them before my face twists with disgust," _And I did **nothing**._"

"I couldn't do _anything_ to stop it." I clutch at my head," I couldn't do a damn thing _but_ **_listen_**."

"All because I was _too_ _weak_..." I stare at them sightlessly," _ **It was all my fault.**_ "

" **Ell got bit,** " My voice carried with how silent the Glade was.

* * *

"You're going to have to kill me," He told me, expression cold and distant.

"What?" I can't comprehend his words," No!" I refuse.

"I'm going to die either way, Cricket," He snorts," I'd much rather have you kill me than have them get their filthy hands on me."

"No! They're not going to kill you and neither am I!" I snap at him, stomping my foot and grabbing his shoulders," I'm not going to let them!"

 **Ell laughs.**

 _But his laughter is hollow now._

"And how are you going to stop them?" He asks, amused," They're going to hear my screams and they're gonna come running."

"You won't scream," I deny," Tie taught us not to."

 _Ell's slap burns._

"Be serious!" He snaps," If you won't do it, I'll do it myself!"

He tries to grab a knife but I quickly jump in front of him.

"No! You're not giving up!" I tell him," _**I'm not allowed to give up and neither are you!**_ "

Ell's eyes blaze like molten embers," I am going to die _either_ _way_."

"You are _**not**_!" I snap at him," You're the strongest person I know! _**You're the genius!**_ Are you saying you're that weak you will just give up because of one little scratch! _**What happened to The Crackling!**_ " I very nearly yell at him.

Tears burn the back of my eyes and his slap split my lip, I must look ridiculous in his eyes because he burst out laughing.

"You're _mad_ , Cricket," He laughs.

"Takes one to know one, Crackhead!" I kick him.

Ell pushes me down roughly.

"You're going to lose, you know..." He scoffs," _They are going to find me._ "

"They won't!" I fiercely told him," _**I'll protect you!**_ "

 _And I did._

 _ **For two weeks.**_

In less than eight hours black lines and a strange ooze had started to appear around the wound. Ell would grunt and arch this way or that way because of pain, but he never once screamed out.

We had been taught, **_conditioned_** , to _never_ scream.

 _ **Ell started losing his mind two days after the bite.**_

One moment he'd be fine and the other he'd attack me. Each night I had to tie him up, and every other night Ell would find a way out of the ropes and he'd attack me again.

 _ **Strangle me.**_

Uncaringly.

 _ **A week after the bite wound Ell wouldn't recognize me anymore.**_ He started to grunt and snarl, and I would fill the disturbing noise with chatter.

 _Because I had to do everything I could to make the situation **better**._

Sometimes... Sometimes Ell would speak, the same thing over and over again, and it chilled me to the bones.

 _ **"This is all your fault. You started this. We should have never let you live."**_

I brushed it off as the madness talking, but those words _stuck_. **When I'd wake up in the night with his hands around me I would hear him say them, and after awhile I _believed_ them.**

 _This was my fault._ _Because of me Tie and Leaf were dead._

 **And I hated myself for it.**

 _But I **never** blamed Ell for those words._ **How could I?**

 **He was the _last_ family I had left. _The only family I had left._**

 _ **He was my brother.**_

 _And I loved him._

 _ **Two weeks.**_

Fourteen days of worrying over him, fearing his discovery and hating the pain he was going through, how little I could do to make it better.

 _Running with Ell was the worst._ In the last days he was under the complete control of the bite, he _wasn't_ Ell anymore, and so he would try and go after the others. But I didn't let him, I made him chase after me, I let him attack me so he'd gain interest and I would run as far as the Peekers went.

 _ **And we'd fight.**_

After that I'd have to tie his hands and we'd run back. Once we got to out burrow I would tie him up to his place and I would _try_ and find us food.

I always worried about him getting loose while I was not there so I tried to hurry back as fast as I could.

 _I wouldn't get much food but it was enough to tide us over._

Ell wouldn't eat as much anymore. He wouldn't cooperate or 'play nice'. _**He was trapped inside his madness.**_

 _But I still cared for him._ **I looked after him just as _he had_ _looked after me_ when _I_ tried to jump off the Maze and got caught in his trap.**

 **I loved my brother!**

 _I **promised** myself I would keep him safe._

 **I would _not_ lose my last remaining family.**

 _"But if wishes were fishes and cattle were kings, the world would be full of wonderful things..."_

* * *

" _ **I got caught,**_ " I told them, "I was _tired_ and _hungry_ and _too damn focused_ on making sure Ell was following me that **I got caught in a trap.** "

I could still remember the split second realization of what had happened where my mind was still numb and unfocused.

 **But then the fear set in.**

"Cut my back," I laughed," The big cut down my back was from it," I explained," _I couldn't get myself out._ "

 **No way to free myself.**

"I could hear them, off in the distance, whooping and cheering running towards me." I looked away," And inside of me I hoped to infuriate them enough for them to kill me straight away because I _didn't want_ to be burnt alive like all the others."

I shook my head.

"But then I look to see Ell just standing there staring at me," I scoff," Just staring like an idiot. So I tell him to run, for all that good it'd do since he hadn't responded to anything in that last week, but I still _tried_."

"I tried to get him to run so they wouldn't kill him too," I smiled," I had _promised_ , after all..."

 **Then my face twisted in anguish.**

"But that Crackhead just had to prove me wrong," I cried," _**Because his eyes cleared.**_ "

" **Ell** looked _straight_ _at_ _me_ and cut me down from the trap," My voice was raw,"Then he kind of tittered, blood coming out of his mouth, and he turned to look at where the sound was coming from."

"I tried to grab him, get him to run but he shook me off," I told them," _'Run... No use **both** **of us** **dying** here.'_"

I looked up to the sky.

"I _almost_ thought I had imagined those words," I said," But I hadn't, because that fool turns around and slaps me, _'Get the hell away from here, Cricket'_ , he said and **_I_** , _I stood rooted to that spot for what felt like an eternity._ "

" **I had to run** , when Ell told you to do something you did it, the consequences wouldn't be worth disagreeing, so I knew I had to do it," I laughed brokenly," But I also knew _**that the moment I did would be the last time I ever saw him.**_ "

" **I was losing my brother,**" I cried," **And there was _nothing_ I could do.** _So I just **ran**._"

My heart hurts. My chest feels like its been hollowed out by cruel careless hands.

"As I ran I heard him laugh _'I always wanted to see the world burn'_ , and then shouts." I retell," I ran all the way to the Peekers and then all the way back. And I waited for something to happen, _something to tell me what happened_."

I smiled," There were **eight** hunters that morning but that night only _**five** _came back. Even out of his mind Ell was dangerous enough to take down three of the bastards that tried to take _him_ down."

" _ **Obie was enraged,**_ " My mouth twisted," He ordered the stake to be put on the other side of the door and ordered them to tie Ell to it. I stood there, _horrified_ , because they _weren't_ going to kill Ell." I told them," _**They were going to leave him out to be devoured by the Beasts.**_ "

" **Just like _you_ have done to Dash,**" I look in the Leader's eyes," _**The Hunters did to my brother.**_ "

"And I _stood there_ _all night_ **listening** to his screams because that was the least I could do." I cursed," _ **I had to walk past what was left of him the next morning, walk over the pool of his blood,**_ and run that Maze with people who did not even react to his death besides the obvious horror and _**relief**_ that it _hadn't_ _been_ **_them_**."

" _And I was **angry** ,_" I shook my head slowly," **So angry.** I _swore_ that I would make them _pay_."

" **And I did.** "

The Gladers all shivered at the empty look I gave them.

"I don't like talking about the Arena," I shrug," But I do, easily, what I do not do is mention _why_ I had been running the Maze for three days straight."

"I had been trying to die," I gesture," Because there was _nothing_ **_left_**."

" _ **I am the only one still alive from the Arena,**_ " I reveal," The night I came back from the Maze _I killed all the Hunters in their sleep._ And then when the others started waking up and noticed what I had done they turned against me," I sneered," Fearful of what would happen now that Obie wasn't there to lay down the 'rules'."

" _ **So I killed them too,**_ " I shrugged," And then I was left all alone in the Arena and I remembered Ell's last words to me. That he wanted to watch the world burn," I tilted my head to the side," So I gave him that last wish, I burnt the Arena to the ground and fled to the Maze."

"And when those doors closed I kind of just _waited_ ," I remember hazily," _**Waited for the Beasts who had killed my brothers to come kill me also.**_ "

" _ **But they never did,"**_ I sighed," _Instead_ **I woke up in here** , in the 'perfect' community who _**had**_ _**everything** _my brothers and I _**hadn't**_."

" **And I hated you so much.** _Hated **myself** **more** for realizing that,_" I snorted," Because I was _jealous_ of you, _**you who have**_ **never** _ **known what it's like to live on the edge of being dead inside or forgotten from existence**_. And that was _pitiful_ ," I snarled," So I tried to see the 'silver lining' in this whole situation."

" ** _But I can't!_** " I snap," _I can't because every time I close my eyes to fall asleep I see **my brothers dying** , I feel my brother's **hands around my throat** and I see myself bathed in the blood of the people I **murdered** **in cold blood** without a second thought._"

" _ **I am a monster,**_ " I gesture uselessly to myself," And every time I try not to be I _only make things **worse**_. I tried to save Dash and I got **_lost_ **_in your fucking Maze_ , so he _came back_ and _ **saved me**_ , but he _tackled me out of the way_ of that thing and **got stung**. _**IN MY FUCKING PLACE!**_ " I yell at them.

" _ **So now I have** **more blood on my hands** , because he's being sent out there to die and it's **my fucking fault** ,_" I tell them.

" _And I can't do this anymore_." I shake my head with a sigh," _I can't stand this..._ **existence** _I have._ I can't do this. _**I just can't.**_ "

" _Tomorrow... **Tomorrow those Doors will open back up,**_ " I point at the smooth white stone behind me," **_And I will leave the Glade._** "

" _ **I am done,**_ " I tell them one last time," _ **Tomorrow I am going to die.**_ "

And after I finished saying that I didn't even look at any of their faces. I just walked away, ignoring all the people, **strangers** , calling me back.

I just climbed up that tree, it had been so long since I had climbed it, and sat there. _**Listening.**_

I watched as the sky darkened and Gladers went on as usual, lighting their little fires and going to sleep in their beds. I stayed up in that tree, _**awake**_ , all night _listening._

 **For Hank screamed only once in the quiet of the night.**

 ** _But the creatures crowed and revelled for hours afterwards._**

Loud shrieks of bloodlust as they chased after their prey, and quieter shrieks, shrieks that made me feel numb, once they had caught it.

 _ **And I had never hated a place more than I had the Maze.**_

* * *

...when possessed with power answerable to his rage." \- Plutarch


	10. March Update

Brief update on the current situation, appologies this is not a chapter. There might not be a chapter in a long while yet.

As I stated in the previous Notice on Cloudy Rain and Thunder (appologies that is my main fanfic) I am currently staying at home to look after my mother, who (as far as the doctors told us at that time) had suffered a stroke and was having difficulty going on with her daily life.

Last month that diagnosis was proven wrong.

 ** _My mother did_ not _suffer a stroke._**

She has been diagnosed with **Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS)** which causes the premature death of neurons that control voluntary muscles, in her case it's affecting her throat and mouth. My mother will need a ventilator at night to help her breathe and at some point in the near future she will have a feeding tube put in because she can no longer swallow or chew properly.

She has also been diagnosed with dementia, which isn't uncommon with ALS.

Those are the three main concerns the doctors have with her right now, but they pose a very simple and heartbreaking result:

ALS does not have a cure. ALS will continue to progress/advance and get worse. ALS ends in death.

The doctor has informed me, **12th of March 2019** , that by December this year my mother might very well be unrecognisable. _If_ she's still with us at all.

Despite my hopes for a good long while before I was faced with the prospect of such an end (which was from 3 to, in the best of circumstances, 10 years) I am now faced with months.

As I am writing this today I am 19 years old.

I hoped the day I faced this situation would only come when I was old and 'grown-up' myself. That is not to be.

I thank all of the follows and favorites you have given this story and I thank all of the reviews you have sent, I may not reply but know I read every single one. Unfortunately If Wishes were Fishes has once again been put in the back burner while my family and I work through this matter.

 **Rest assured, If Wishes were Fishes and my other stories will not be abandoned.**

I just cannot find the strength in me to write much of anything right now.

Best of wishes and prayers for you and your families, hold them true and dear,

\- LadyCroft


	11. Chapter 9 - Because I Remember

Still not completely back guys, just had a nice break in doctors appointments and sheer will to write for a bit.

This is the first chapter of Part II of this story, so we're starting the midway point of **If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings**!

Hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites and reviews!

* * *

 **\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +**

* * *

Chapter 9 - "Because I remember, I despair..."

* * *

Pain. The only clear thing in my mind when I opened my eyes to the morning sky was pain. I glanced down at my clothes, filthy with deep tears in the cloth, the ones I had been wearing since yesterday. I was strangely numb to the sight of dried blood and gunk on them before my eyes wondered down to my hand.

I focused hard on the swelling and bruised knuckles as the events that had happened yesterday started trickling in, a roar of thunder howling in my head and blood pulsing in my ears.

 _Hank was dead._ ( **Ell was dead.** )

 _Had had been stung._ ( **Ell had been bit.** )

 _He had failed to protect Hank_. ( **He failed to protect Ell.** )

 _The Gladers banished Hank._ ( **The Hunters left Ell to die.** )

 _He killed Hank._ ( **He killed Ell.** )

It should've been me.

The sun was about to peek over the walls surrounding the Glade, the Doors were going to open soon, and I climbed down from my tree.

Slowly.

As if cherishing the last time I would be climbing it. Committing the feel of the rough bark to memory so I wouldn't forget.

 _Today I was going to **die**._

 **Today I was going _home_.**

I walked leisurely towards the Doors, ignoring the scared and perturbed looks on the scattered gladers faces as I passed them by, numbing my heart for what was to come. While I was, at most, minimally civil and distant to the gladers, in general, there were others I had, inevitably, grown close to and... fond of. _Attached_...

Those awaited me at the entrance of the Maze.

Their eyes were scared, not of me but for me, (and wasn't that a novelty). They ran up to meet me.

Time seemed to drag on for an eternity,I thought, perhaps in another life, once the spell had been broken, I would run up and meet them halfway. Open my arms and welcome them with tears and apologies. Perhaps...

Perhaps in a life I had not spent running for my life, one where I hadn't sacrificed blood, sweat and tears just to keep breathing for one more miserable day; one where I hadn't tore my own heart out and left it to shrivel and rot under that cold burning sun...

 _Perhaps..._

 **But this wasn't that life.**

Instead of running to them, instead of clinging to them tightly, like a drowning man would a lifeboat, I pushed them away.

I pushed them away and walked right past them.

They were shining examples of what being human was truly about. They were happy, strong and caring. They persevered not by turning into animals but by making most of what they got.

They were everything I was not.

 _I was not strong._ ( **You are weak.** )

 _I was not caring._ ( **You destroy everything you touch.** )

 _I was not happy._ ( **You don't deserve happiness.** )

 _I was not like them._ ( **You are a monster, filthy and dangerous; you'll never be human.** )

So I brushed them aside, walked past them towards the Doors, blind to their distress and deaf to their pleas; numb... Entirely numb to my own beaten heart and exhausted body.

 _I was tired. I wanted to_ **sleep** _._

 **I wanted to go home.**

The Doors opened with a loud mechanical sound, stone giving way into the Death Halls they secured, I could see the stretch of marble white stone beckoning me.

I walked towards it, vaguely aware of someone being restrained behind me.

 **I was walking to my death.**

 _Willingly._

And I savored the bitter irony like one would gladly swallow a whole lemon.

 _I... I did not want this._

This chance, this opportunity, I _hated_ it. The mere fact that this was happening at all only fueled my anger. It dug the broken shards of glass deeper into my skin.

 **I had this choice.** Others did _not_.

 _I was still alive._ Everyone else was _dead_.

What right did I have to have all this while everyone else died with nothing but broken dreams and lost hope?

 _'Don't give this dream away',_ Tie begged me, _'This is what we waited for.'_

This is our dream. Alone it is meaningless.

 _'You don't believe that!'_ Tie tried once more, _'It is still our dream, for we are-'_

 **Dead.**

The voices cease.

 **You are dead and I am still living and I hate it.**

 _I want to die._

 **I want to go home.**

 _So why do I feel like crying?_

I don't run.

I have run for long enough, my death was already here, It had already claimed me; there was no use in running now. Past stone hallways, twisting and turning around each dead end, I mutely contemplated everything that had happened inside these halls.

I could imagine it clearly, this maze wasn't as dirty or bloodied like mine, of course, but it still held enough resemblance that it wasn't hard to.

 **I don't stop walking.**

Even when Minho begs me to, pleads with me one last time as the sky darkens and the reality that I will remain inside once the Doors close fully sinks in, he still tries...

 **I don't listen.**

Finally, he can't wait any longer lest he himself become trapped, he leaves, shouting that Ben would never forgive me for dying like this.

In my head I hear a voice, that sounded suspiciously like Leaf's, agreeing to that statement.

 _'He will never forgive you,'_ It says, _'Just like you never forgave him.'_

I can hear the truth behind those words resonate deep inside of me.

 **I know they are correct.**

 _Except for one small detail._

"He will **_never_ **be anything like me," I whisper inside the dead quiet maze.

My footsteps echo in the emptiness, they bounce off the stone walls appearing louder than ever before, like the beating of drums, and I feel chills run down my spine.

 _'I'm being watched,'_ I realize, not letting it show. Through the corner of my eye I see several skittering, red-eyed critters scatter around the withered vines covering the walls.

Beetle Blades.

Newt had told me that they believed the Beetles spied on them, reporting what they saw to whoever put us here. To the Creators.

 **They were watching.**

Something akin to anger burned in my stomach, however I did not give in to it, instead focusing on the sound of the closing Doors. A thunderous 'boom' like sound pressed itself tightly together once more.

The maze started moving not long after that, the mechanisms responsible for rearranging the maze shattering the quiet of the night.

 **Through it all, I don't stop walking.**

I don't stop walking despite the weight of exhaustion on my shoulders.

I don't stop walking even when my legs burn from the strenuous exercise I was putting them through.

I had been walking since the sun rose that morning and now the sky was pitch black with no light to illuminate it save for a weak moonlight flickering out of thick clouds.

My sight was impaired, I did not care.

It didn't bother me, not in the numb state I was in.

The maze was too quiet, I did not care.

The quiet didn't faze me, I ignored it.

I just kept walking. On and on and on... **Until I suddenly stop.**

 _There's a break in the clouds and I can see._

 _ **I can see...**_

The bulbous body skewed by metal spires on its back, the long and thick metal lags, sharpened to a tip, tapping on the ground with a hollow 'clank' sound. Its many eyes are focused on me, just as mine are locked on the nauseating pile of goo that drips down from its maw to the floor.

 **At the sight of it I cannot take a step further.**

 **At the sight of it everything around me** _vanishes_ **.**

 **For a split second everything** _just stops_ **.**

Yet, in that split second last for what seems to be an eternity. And in that eternity I make sense of many things.

 _I remember Beasts, with **giant claws** and teeth sharp like needles._

 _I remember the Arena, with its **ash covered grounds** and permanent winter._

 _I remember the smell of blood and **burning flesh**._

 _I remember the Maze, the confusing corridors and **trap filled halls**._

 _I remember the sight of **devoured bodies** and their rotting corpses._

 _I remember the **screaming**._

 _I remember **Hank**._

 **(And Tie. And Leaf. And Ell.)**

And the world explodes in a cacophony of sounds and colors and memories best left forgotten.

There's a burning in my chest, a fire rising, climbing, up from the very bottom of my stomach.

 _Hank is dead._

I feel something start to drip from my nose.

 _A Griever killed him._

My ears ring and pulse, my heart beat muffled behind the pounding of drums echoing from a distant memory.

 _It killed Hank._

The fire inside of me grows hotter. It **_burns_**.

 _I remember..._

Ell and Tie. Sitting together beside a fire pit, laughing, talking with large grins on their faces. Those two always compared me to **ice**. I was too cold. Too distant. I kept everyone away from me, fearing they would break my defenses. But at the same time I was completely transparent; I tried to keep people from seeing my actual feelings but never quite managed to get the job done.

 _I cowered behind my ice walls and never let anyone get too close._

 **Until I grew attached and thawed.**

But not Leaf. _**Never** Leaf_.

 **Leaf, foolish and infuriating Leaf; he would laugh and laugh and laugh.**

 _'Listen to me carefully, Cricket,'_ He would grin, _' You are **Fire**. You burn. Bright and fast and so fucking terrifying... T **he day you let that fire out, you will burn everything away.** '_ His eyes reflect the flames in front of us, _'You are_ **Fire** _, never forget that',_ He told me.

 _ **'You will burn all your enemies to ashes...'** _I can hear him whisper in my ear, feel his hands on my shoulders, pushing me onward.

 _I always believed him wrong._

 **I was Ice.**

 _But not_ **now** _._

 **Not here.**

 _In this moment, I_ **knew** _what he meant... I_ **understood** _now what he saw_ **in** _me._

 **Now...**

Now fury, guilt and pain fueled my rage, they stocked the molten lava building up from the pit of my stomach and **_melted_ **every single restrain I might have had on my being. _Every chain that held me back... All the ice I surrounded myself with..._

 **Gone.**

 _In my mind I felt something give way, letting in a sea of lava, and my soul burned._

 **I burned.**

And I decided, way in the back of my mind, one last coherent thought, that if I was going to hell that day I was taking this bastard down with me.

 _A roar shatters that split second stillness._

 **My world goes black.**

* * *

 _"Director! The readings! We can't get a clear analysis on these readings!" An operator yells, frantically trying to keep his computer working._

 _"What's happening to the subject?" The Director demands, heels clicking on the impeccably clean flooring as she steps closer to the main screen._

 _"His readings suddenly went haywire! Director the scans cannot keep up with with it!" The operator reported, stressed," Director, look!" He enlarged the scan of a human brain._

Thomas had never seen anything like it.

 _The entire brain was glowing, every part of it spiking with yellows and greens with the occasional bright red, every signal the brain sent was pushed to its limits. Every so often the brain activity hit a sudden wave of erratic spikes the scan would glitch and disconnect._

The synapses were going too fast to keep track of.

They _couldn't_ reliably map a brain like this.

But why was this happening?

 _"Get me a close up of Subject H-38 now!" The Director ordered, she gripped the railing in a white knuckle grip, face slightly pale._

 _Another operator immediately sets to work on it, typing away at her keyboard, after a few seconds a second screen enlarged itself beside the brain scan._

 **Thomas was sure his heart stopped beating.**

* * *

Newt couldn't sleep, he stood on the entry way of the homestead and stared at the closed Doors of the Maze, off in the distance. He had helped Fry and Joe keep Ben from taking off after Cricket-...

Newt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he felt like an utter failure.

Cricket was his charge, his responsibility, and as much as Frypan argued that he was Cricket's superior the fact remained that Alby had left him in charge of the odd boy.

Not that he was a boy, well he was but...- He was same age as him, had been through the wringer and most certainly wasn't a child, no matter how many times he acted like one.

 _He felt shame crawl all over him._

He was supposed to have seen this coming, to have noticed how truly alone he felt from behind his witty remarks and closed off expressions. His smiles never reached his eyes.

He would stare off into space, lost in haunting memories visible only on the sadness and confusion sometimes reflected in his eyes.

 _'How did I not know how he was feeling?'_ He asked himself.

 _'Was this how Alby and Minho felt when they found me and brought me back?'_ He wondered.

"Are you going to stay here all night?" Alby's voice startles him, he'd been so lost in thought he hadn't heard him approach from behind.

"What are you doing up?" Newt asks.

"I heard you get up, never heard you get back in bed," Alby shrugs, coming to stand beside him, "What are you doing, Newt?" He asks then.

"I don't know..." The brit answers him honestly, "I just can't wrap my head around what happened, what Cricket...-"

"It's not your fault," Alby cuts him off, "You couldn't have known."

"I _could_ have though! I should have known, Alby," Newt tells him," Fry was always mentioning how evasive he became when asked about how he got here from the Arena," He started pacing angrily.

"You couldn't have known about what he had done, Newt," Alby sighs, " _It's better this way..._ "

Newt stumbles to a stop and goes rigid.

"What are you talking about, Alby?" His voice sounds odd, like its barely audible even to his own ears.

"Hm? Isn't that what you're worried about? The fact no one realized how dangerous he was?" Alby frowns.

Newt's heart stutters in his chest.

" _Dangerous_?" He whispers, incredulous.

"Newt, you can't still be thinking that 'Cricket' was a harmless lost puppy you could tame?" Alby sighs, "You heard what he said, what he did."

"He did **_nothing_ **wrong," His hands fist around his shirt, "Nothing he hasn't paid the price for! The Arena wasn't the Glade, Alby! The situation there were completely different!"

"And what he did to Gally?" Alby cocks his eyebrow, "Already forgotten about that incident?"

" _Gally_ was the one who instigator that, everyone knows that," Newt snaps at his best friend, "It was never Cricket's fault!"

Alby purses his lips into a frown, "Nevertheless, the one who ended up seriously injured wasn't Cricket."

Newt couldn't believe the words coming out of their leader's mouth.

"There wasn't anything we could have done to help him, much less contain him long-term," Alby reasoned, "He was too far gone, Newt, too dangerous for us to keep in the Glade."

"He wasn't!" Newt shouts, "It wasn't too late to help him!"

"He did not belong here, Newt, and trying to force him to would have never worked," Alby pushes himself to stand straight and stare Newt down.

Newt was not cowed.

"Did you not hear what he said? What he did to the people of his Arena?!" Alby asks, voice raised and steely.

Newt _did_ heard those words. Loud and clear.

But he also remembers hearing Cricket talk, voice raw and cracking from disuse, retelling how he **_lost_ _everything_** that kept his head above water.

 _ **"Do you know what it's like to give up? It's when you're standing on the edge, ready to jump, and all you feel is emptiness."**_

Newt does. He's reminded of that feeling every time his leg aches and he has to take a break from helping Zart tend the fields.

He's reminded very time he has a nightmare, one where he is falling and there's no one to come search for him this time, and wakes up drenched in cold sweat.

 **He remembers. _He knows._ He understands.**

" _ **This is**_ **not** _ **the Arena,**_ " Newt feels himself trembling," This is the Glade and we have three rules we all must follow:" He counts off his fingers.

" _No Glader shall be harmed by another, we protect our own;_ " Newt ticks off one finger.

" _No one here is a freeloader, everyone does their part,_ " He ticks off another finger.

" _No one besides the Runners is allowed to enter the Maze,_ " Newt ticks off the final finger.

Alby's face is stormy, "What are you getting at, Newt?"

"I'm saying **we** are breaking these rules as we speak," He glares at his leader," Cricket arrived in the Box, he was out Greenie, we allowed Gally to to push him because, _shuck_ , it's **Gally**!" Newt threw his hands up.

"Cricket was _always_ helping in the kitchen, he did whatever Frypan or the cooks asked him to," He continued, "He refused to enter the Maze, we _forced_ him to!"

"We failed him, Alby," Newt's shoulders slump, "He _wasn't_ too far gone, he was only hurting... He was hurting and none of us noticed, how could he ask for help when he didn't know how?!"

"He was a Glader the moment he arrived in that Box... And we did nothing to make him understand that," Newt felt like crying, his throat closed tight.

Alby was silent for a moment, "Do **you** agree about what he said?" He asked, "About the banishments."

Newt couldn't answer, he didn't know what to think.

On one hand it was, truly, too cruel to leave them to die in the Maze, killed by the Grievers, but on the other hand he couldn't imagine himself putting another Glader out of his misery.

"I don't know, Alby," He answers him, quietly, " _I really don't know._ "

"Do you think he was right about Hank?" Alby asks him, "Do you think we should've done anything differently?"

"I _think_ we should've have explained the dangers beforehand," Newt reasons, "We should've tried to understand where he was coming from when he stood in front of Hank and refused to back away."

" _It was an accident_, no one's fault," Alby stresses out the words.

"And _yet_ Cricket saw it as a personal failure of his, he couldn't protect Hank, keep him safe, just as he couldn't save his brother," Newt sighs, "We didn't even _try_ to tell him it wasn't his fault."

"He's gone, Newt!" Alby shouts, "What good does it do to keep going round in circles with this?!"

" _ **So we should just forget him?**_ Forget Hank? Stephen? Nick? Justin?" Newt snaps at him once more, "About **George**?!"

Alby flinches back as if struck.

Newt lets out a bitter chuckle, "Do you know how Cricket ended up the way he did? _**Why** _he reacted the way he did?" He asks but doesn't expect an answer.

" **He was like that because he refused to forget,** " Newt tells him, " **He _refused_ to forget about his family.**"

Alby doesn't say another word, merely walks away from Newt and back up the stairs to his room, not even directing a word to the bewildered gladers who were watching from the doorway to common dorm.

"He's alive," Ben's voice sounds much younger than usual, so quiet Newt almost doesn't hear it. He half turns to face the teen peaking out of the corner of the doorway.

"Ben," Newt sighs, "No one survives...-" He's interrupted before he can finish his sentence.

"No one yet," Ben tells him, "He's already survived three before."

"Not in our maze, "Newt reminds him.

"He's alive," Ben tells him, sure of his words, his eyes nearly glowing, "He's alive and I'm going to bring him back.

 _Somehow Newt didn't doubt him._

* * *

The Doors were still closed when Newt woke up the next morning, tired and weary, and the sky was oddly dark and cloudy. It started to rain as he made his way towards the kitchens.

"Today you wouldn't think it was summer," Zart commented once they sat down at breakfast, "He would've loved it," He added in a quieter voice.

 _The food soured in his mouth the moment those words sank in._

"Clint would be yelling at him to get out of the rain, "Doug spoke up from further down the table.

"And he'd turn right about and give him that aggravating smirk," Scott chuckled.

Chuckles run up and down the table.

"And Clint would go back to yelling at him before Frypan shows up and bribes him inside the kitchen with food," Ric grins.

"If Cricket was having fun and wasn't hurting anyone, Frypan would _let him_ keep at it," Alec tells them, shaking his head and carrying his own breakfast.

"And then lecture him when he inevitably fell sick?" Doug smirks causing Alec to burst out laughing.

"You bet!" He agrees.

Newt can imagine that scene as easy as breathing inside his mind, Cricket running circles around the exasperated med-jack, sloshing through the mud, smirking smugly at him whenever Clint slipped or tripped over his feet. Clint calling Frypan to help wrangle the teen into the showers and out of the rain only for the Keeper of the Cooks to laugh, maybe tell Cricket to be back before dark or something, before walking away.

Newt can imagine himself watching them from further away. Watching as Cricket _rolls_ off the muddy ground and jumps in puddles, spraying water everywhere, already completely soaked and covered in mud but not caring one bit about it. _Dark hair plastered to his face, dripping, and he'd push it off his green eyes, for once not shadowed or empty but lit up with energy and his smir-..._

Newt's thoughts strayed from there and he shook his head to clear it. Blood attempting to rush to his cheeks.

 _How could someone who saw himself as a monster have such a pull on him?_ **How could he bring so many people together?**

 _'He's so much like you, I swear when I saw him up that tree... His eyes, Newt... His eyes were just like yours had been back then,'_ Minho's hushed confession all those months ago jumps to the forefront of his mind. That conversation brings another wave of grief crashing over him.

"Will you shut up about that jacket up shank?!" Gally's voice, loud and angry, cuts through his thoughts and chatter.

The mess hall fell dead quiet, and through the corner of his eyes Newt can see Frypan slowly lowering his ladle, face a mask of pleasantness contrasting with the way his eyes looked like chips of ice, burning with anger and disbelief.

"Who cares about him? Don't you know what he did? Did you not hear the stupid slinthead while he confessed to be the thing I warned you about the moment he arrived?!" Gally continued, " _I'm glad_ that thing _isn't here anymore, he would have killed us all! He was a mons-...!_ "

He doesn't get to finish his sentence, in the blink of an eye Ben is on top of him, punching him viciously. It takes Minho and Brandon both to pull him off a bleeding Gally. Nose re-broken and lip split.

" _ **Don't you talk about him!** _You have _no right_ to say that! _You don't know him!_ " Ben is yelling, struggling to free himself, " _ **You're the one who should just**_ **die** _ **!**_ "

Newt doesn't hear Alby's response or what Minho replies, just notices the way Alby's eyes darken and how his expression shuttered close, all while the room look on in disbelief.

Or worse... _Agreement_.

The end result was as expected, Ben was sent to the pit and would remain there for some time, long enough for him to cool his head and reconsider his actions, plus a few more days for Gally to recover and not instigate another witch hunt.

"Newt!" Alby called him over, "Meet me outside!"

The other gladers quickly made themselves scarce, giving him a wide berth, pretty certain that the conversation that awaited him wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

"This is exactly what I feared would happen!" Alby gets straight to the point the moment Newt steps outside, "Half of them support Gally while the others are rallying against them."

"Gally _was_ out of line, saying those things, if it had been about any other person and _not_ Cricket, would we be having this conversation?" Newt couldn't help but point that out, "While Ben was equally in the wrong for attacking him, you can't exactly blame him. Cricket was, still _is_ , his closest friend."

"You can't still believe him to be alive?" Alby sighs in exasperation, " _You_ of all people!"

"Why should I not believe him to be alive?" He groans, "Look, Alby, Cricket survived three nights in his maze, unless the Runners can find proof he's dead, how can't we believe he's still alive in ours?" Newt decides to hope for the best like Ben.

"Is _everyone_ ignoring the fact he plainly told us he was going into the maze _to die_!?" Alby shouts.

"Newt flinches before looking down at his hands.

" _He_ won't _give up that easily..._ " Newt tells him.

"How can you be sure?" Alby pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Cricket _will_ come back, Alby, **alive** ," Newt is certain of it.

"Shuck... Goddammit, Newt, I was hoping you'd at least remain logical about this." The leader huffs.

"Why _me_?" Newt asks.

"You're my second-in-command, shank," Alby grumbles, "Right now the Glade is divided and the rift isn't going to mend itself."

"You want my opinion?" Newt asks, " ** _I_** think this whole situation was bound to happen sooner or later, with or without Cricket."

"What do you mean?" Alby frowns.

Newt bites his lip, deep in thought, "It's something I've been wondering for a while now... _Why was Cricket sent here_?"

"Huh?" Alby turns to face him fully.

"If Cricket had a group of his own then it's entirely possible for there to be **_more_ **groups other than ours, right?" Newt gestures to the Glade, "So why _**here**_? **Why send Cricket into the Glade?** _Why not somewhere else?_ **Why even move him at all and _not_ let him die in the Arena?**" He elaborates further.

"You think this was _planned_... The whole situation was a set up," Alby realizes, "You think the Creators _wanted_ this to happen?"

"I think they wanted to see how we'd react," Newt frowns and looks at the scattered gladers talking in groups, obviously gossiping about this morning's events, "How we're reacting."

"Shuck..." Alby crosses his arms, "This whole thing is messed up, Newt, especially if it's true. People are _scared_ , Newt."

"I know... I'm sorry," Newt sighs, "What are you going to do?"

"About?" Alby groans.

" _Cricket_ , when he comes back," Newt explains, "He's alive, what are you going to do then?"

Alby takes a long moment to answer, staring at the now open doors of the Glade, a single team of Runners leaving today, before looking down at his feet. He takes a deep breath:

"If he comes back... Shucks, Newt, it's going to be a madhouse," Alby confesses," Gally and his followers are going to demand him to be banished."

"If you agree you'll lose more than just Cricket," Newt interjects, "And since when did Gally became the one who decides what happens in the Glade. Last time I checked we were still a democracy. **We take vote.** "

Alby takes one last look at the Doors, gaze clouded with doubt, and then nods.

"If Cricket is brought back, or comes back, alive we'll take vote on whether or not he is allowed to remain in the Glade. But, and I'm very serious on this Newt, **he is not to be left alone** , ever. Someone will have to remain with him constantly, do you _understand_ me, Newt?"

"Yes," He tries his best not to smile in relief, "Good that, Alby."

"Good that," The dark skinned leader nods once before walking away.

 _Newt feels lightheaded, like a boulder had been removed from his shoulders._

 **He has another chance.**

 **Cricket still has a chance**.

 _And Newt is not taking it for granted anymore._

He has people to talk to. Plans to put in motion.

* * *

... Because I remember, I have the duty to reject despair." \- Elie Wiesel


	12. Chapter 10 - Memories are bullets

\+ If Wishes were Fishes and Cattle were Kings +

* * *

Chapter 10 - "Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you...

* * *

The world is dark when I come to, eyes heavy and unfocused, whole body numb and rigid. I keep losing conscience and coming back seconds later.

The sky is still dark when I manage to pry my eyes fully open and remain awake long enough for my brain to reboot. In the scant few seconds where my body is still numb and my mind asleep, I can hear the wind whistle around corners of stone. Its cool breeze felt nice on my burning skin.

And then the stillness of the world around me is broken and I choke back a scream as the numbness gives way to agony. Waves of scorching hot pain roll all over my body, my bones feeling like they had been replaced with red hot iron rods, my blood boiling.

It truly felt like I was burning from the inside out.

I felt _sick_.

I barely managed to force myself to roll onto my side, force back tears of pain, before I hurl all over the stone floor.

A mess of blood and some sort of putrid black goo is all that comes out but its enough for warning bells to start going off inside my head. I try to push myself up but the pain and shock are so overwhelming I pass out again.

Three or four seconds later I come to grunting and groaning, riding out the onslaught of agony. The longer it goes on the more I feel my senses are being pushed past its limits, my brain and thought pattern jumping all over the place. Visions flashing over my eyes, voices and echoes mumbling or shouting in my ears, phantom sensations retracing my skin.

I shiver uncontrollably as I lay down on the ground, desperately trying to get a foothold against the chaotic storm happening inside my head.

 _There's nothing else I could do but wait, really..._

I was then I started questioning myself on how and why I was in so much pain, my brain sluggishly grasping at weak straws to try and put together a coherent chain of events to figure out what happened. My alarm grew, heart restlessly beating in a frantic uncoordinated rhythm.

For one, I was alive, if barely, and the darkness surrounding me told me I had been locked in here hours. Two, I was still inside the maze, meaning I had been locked in here for hours unconscious and was, relatively speaking, unharmed.

Three, the last thing I remembered was deciding to fight a Griever.

And fucking hell... I was still alive, so where the fuck is it? What happened after I blacked out? _Why can't I remember?_

Try as I might, the harder I force myself to job my memory, the worse my headache gets; my vision blurs and I feel faint.

This worried me.

Clint's half-assed and droning lectures on different types of injuries and steps to counter them (like avoiding heat strokes) or how to correctly treat them (find a med-jack, shank); Tie's hushed mutterings as he wrapped my arm after Leaf banged it up pretty bad also came to mind.

I brought up a shaking hand to my face, well within my line of sight, and took note of the busted skin on my knuckles and palm, the way my fingers were slightly crooked and a fingernail or two (it was hard to see with all the freaking blood, holy _shit_ ) missing. The sleeve of my shirt was also torn off and I could feel the sting of cuts on my arm; though I couldn't see them from under the blood and goo I attributed to the Griever until it clicked.

Grievers didn't bleed red like humans. And I had seen enough human blood to notice the difference.

 _ **This blood was**_ **mine** _ **.**_

I let my fingers touch my face and immediately felt the flaky crusting around my eyes, under my nose and mouth. More blood. Dried.

My worry grew. How much blood had I lost?

 _I had to get up. I had to get up_ **now** _!_

I had to see how bad it was, where I was bleeding from. Remembering Clint's and Tie's words I tried once more to get up. This time I managed to stand on my hands and knees before the pain and vertigo hit me; my whole visions swims sideways as I retch more black goo only just avoiding face-planting into it.

I stay like that for a few minutes longer, panting and shivering, before trying once more to sit up, succeeding this time, and staring at the sky above me.

The dark is slowly receding, maybe another hour or two before dawn; the weather is cooling, wind picking up. The pain threatens to overwhelm me once more, I close my eyes and focus on breathing; my chest hurts, a weight in it my mind whispers is a broken rib, and leaves me with the growing restlessness that that won't be the worst of my injuries. I do my best not to hyperventilate and pass out again.

I stay like this for a moment longer before opening my eyes and looking down; my shirt is half missing and soaked with the black viscous liquid. I slowly lift what remains of it, pulling at where it is glued to my skin, to see the beaten up skin of my chest and stomach; badly bruised, my torso is nearly a singular big ugly bruise, and a cut bad enough I'm surprised I wasn't disemboweled.

I get rid of what remains of the shirt and try to make a makeshift bandage for the wound on my stomach, probably not a good idea because of all the goo but it's better than nothing.

I also start to inspect my legs and feet; some deep gashes and a missing boot, surprise, surprise missing toenails as well. The plants of my feet are caked in blood and bile.

Going by the amount of blood I can see and feel flaking and falling off my back, I feel safe enough to assume it's not any better than my stomach.

 _Something nibbled at the back of my head._

I took another deep breath, I needed to focus right now and figure out where exactly I was. Looking around, slowly so as to not aggravate my pounding headache, and tried my hardest to recognize my surroundings. Unfortunately there was little to distinguish from one wall to the next.

Except... There's only _three_ walls I can actually see.

If this was one of those wide dead-ends the maze was so found of, wouldn't there be another wall?

Searching through my spotty maze mental map, I started cutting down possibilities.

And then the answer turned out to be pretty obvious.

The reason as to why there wasn't a fourth wall was because there was no need for one. No one could cross to that 'fourth wall' anyway. Why?

Because of the massive chasm I was sitting less than a foot away from. I refrained from flinching or generally freaking out about how close I had been to simply roll off the edge of it in my agony, but I was certain my next round of nightmares would be featuring the abyss quite prominently.

 _I had almost fallen to my death._

 _'Why would it matter?'_ Ell sat on the ledge, kicking his feet back and forth, _'Aren't you here to die?'_

I blinked at his words and open my mouth to reply but another wave of agony leaves me groaning and nearly curling up in pain.

Something then moves in the corner of my eye.

I turn to face it with trepidation. Glowing red eyes meet mine and I blink slowly at them before releasing a relieved breath. It was only a Beetle Blade.

It was no secret that the gladers thought them to be spies and did their best to keep the bugs out of anything highly populated, such as the Homestead and the Mess Hall, so they weren't overly common inside the Glade.

In the Arena, however, they had been _everywhere_. I had always had a weird fascination with them, leading to several attempts of capturing on of them, usually ending with a bemused Tie fixing up my hands while Leaf and Ell had a good laugh at my expense. Following a particularly nasty cut I gained both a healthy respect for them and decided they were better appreciated at a distance.

My interest in the little scampering critters never faded though.

Maybe that's why I reached my hand out towards it and beckoned it closer, inviting it to come near me.

In the back of my mind a stray thought bubbled that this was stupid and why would it get closer when they either stared at you from a distance or ignored your presence. Lo behold, the damn thing skitters right towards me, granted with some initial hesitation, and climb up my arm to rest on my shoulder. Little pricks where it pinched my skin to climb up.

It beeps twice before falling silent.

I stare at it for a few seconds before doubling over in laughter. What is it with attempted suicide leading me to make weird friends?

Of course, this only causes my body to seize once more; vision fogging over and choking on another ripple of flaming hot pain. The beetle beeps several times in quick succession.

"What... happened...?" I gasp, my words coming out in guttural grunts and wheezes. My throat felt raw and I cough globs of goo and congealed blood from out my throat.

"I... can't... remember," I manage to get out.

 _'Where's the Griever?'_ The thought slams into my like a sledgehammer.

 **Oh _shit_.**

My eyes snap back to my surroundings, scanning the smooth stone for any sight of the elusive blob of shit with legs tap dancing with the gracefulness of Gally's feminine side.

The beetle blade on my shoulder jumps off and skitters across the stone only to stop three or so feet away from me. It starts making a 'ping' like sound and turns to me.

I frown at it, _'What the hell is it doing?'_

Clearly, I still had my self-preservation instincts turned off, because I start to slowly push myself up from the ground, swaying and stumbling a few steps but managing to remain upright, before following after the beetle. The spot where I had been lying effectively soaked in blood, bile and black gore.

The beetle isn't very far from me and so I managed to get them only partially exhausted and kneel down beside it in order to see what it wanted to show me.

There, stabbed straight through the marble floor, is my dagger.

Right beside some rather deep lacerations into the stone, again, only a foot or so away from the edge of the chasm.

My hands grope my harness, visible without my shirt, which is surprisingly untouched, and find it empty. I didn't even realize my dagger was missing. I have to pry it off the ground for a few seconds before tucking it back into the sheath and securing it carefully.

"Thanks..." I tell it quietly with some difficulty, my mouth was dry as a desert.

It was weird how I didn't notice my dagger was missing.

 _'How did it know to get you your dagger back?'_ Leave Leaf to ask all the important questions.

The beetle climbs back up my shoulder and leaves me to stare at the groves carved on the stone. They ran deep, the strength it would take to do those kind of marks and drag on without losing depth sends chills down my spine.

It was obvious the Griever had done those, and I thought back to the Beasts. Those had impressive claws and liked to charge at you with crowns full of twisted horns but I had never seen one leave marks as deep as these on the floor. The walls maybe... I'd seen one or two get their horns stuck on walls before their trashing released them, but never like this.

I place my hand on the ground and touch the marks, my fingertips barely grazing them before images flash before my eyes, disjointed and flickering with static, similar to glitches on a computer screen.

( _'What's a computer screen? How do I know what it looks like?'_ I ask myself in some corner of my brain.)

I fall back on my ass and press my hands to my head, taking shuddering breaths; the beetle blade's weight an anchor to reality.

I attempt to make sense of the visions.

"It _fell_...? The Griever," A violent close up of its maw full of gruesome jagged teeth, flashes," It fell over the edge."

 _'I lured it here...'_ I realize faintly, _'I lured it here so it would fall over.'_

The beetle chirps, as if confirming my words.

 _'How could it know to confirm them?'_ Leaf asks.

I stare at it, mind and thoughts swirling; I had the distinct feeling I was missing half a dozen cues, and that the answer was right at the tip of my tongue.

I shake my head, as if to dislodge those confusing thoughts, and immediately regret it.

"Bad... idea..."I grunt over my worsening headache.

The agony from before has abated enough that I can get up without too much difficulty, and start to slowly amble away from the chasm and towards the maze.

* * *

My head is a mess, thoughts scattered, bouncing back and forth between random observations and ramblings about how fucked I was, incoherent mumbling that left me confused and tired.

As it was, I barely make it across two corridors before slumping against the wall and sliding down to sit on the cool floor.

My wounds are still bleeding sluggishly, the shredded shirt around my stomach is starting to drip and I can't exactly check the state of my back but it probably won't be pretty. I'm somewhat worried about how much time I had left before my blood loss does me in; and I say somewhat merely because I don't have the mental capacity right now to have a full blown freak out.

I should also attribute my headache to either anemia or possible, very likely, concussion.

On the brighter note, it was now light enough for me to know dawn was almost upon us, pun _definitely_ intended.

 _I'm tired._

With some effort I manage to make myself comfortable on the ground, I look down at my chest, peeling off the rags that used to be my shirt and checking my wound.

It looks... _bad_.

Like really, really bad; as in **I'm about to die** bad.

Its skin is flushed an angry red and its now expelling the same black liquid I had been puking up an hour or so ago; which, for the life of me, I can't help but think looks _familiar_ to me.

"This doesn't look good," I speak mostly to myself, nevertheless my small metal companion beeps chidingly, "But wasn't this what I should've expected?" I let my head slump back against the wall.

 _'Nothing ever goes according to plan,'_ I think to myself.

The beetle beeps once more time, red glowing eyes staring deep into mine. The feeling from before returns, the distinct sensation that I'm missing something but these thoughts are interrupted by another flare up of my headache.

I close my eyes and focus on breathing through my nose, the air around me still cool and fresh.

 _It's quiet._

 **The Arena was never quiet.**

 _'At least there's no screaming,'_ Tie murmurs.

 _'There's no anything',_ my gut twists, _'there's nothing.'_

...

 **I am all alone.**

Tears come unbidden, running down my face leaving wet trails on blood caked cheeks. The sobs are quiet but they leave my chest aching, making it difficult to breathe.

Worst is, now that I had started crying, I couldn't _stop_.

Like a scared child I could do little more than cower in a dark corner of my mind as warring thoughts, screaming memories and vivid flashbacks shrieked in my ears, hitting me over and over again with the constant reminders that I had done this.

 _I deserve this; I am a monster; I deserve this; They are all dead because of you; I deserve this._

 **I killed them.**

 _There's nothing I can do to make it stop._

 **And I hate it.**

I hate this helplessness.

This crushing weight that nothing can lessen. Nothing can stop this... this... everything!

I wish the world could just stop. For a moment, the world could just stop and let me put my self back together, but it never does.

That moment never does; the world just _takes_ and **_takes_ **and **_takes_**.

 _I hate it... I just want to go home..._

 _'But you can't, you can't come come home yet, Cricket,'_ Leaf sighs, slumping down beside me, _'Remember all those things you yelled at me when I felt?'_

I did, words I regretted the second they left my mouth and others that grew like shackles on my feet and festered like poison in my veins.

 _Grief..._

 ** _'Did you know there are five stages of grief?' 'No... Why do you think there's five?'_ **Young voices whisper way in the back of my head, cutting into my heart like razors.

For some reason they cut deep, painfully exposing my chest. My lungs freeze and choke on a rush of anguish that overtakes me. Fresh tears spill from my eyes.

Leaf vanishes from my side leaving me alone again.

 _I don't want this..._ **I don't want this!**

 _I want... I want..._

 ** _What_ **do I want? What do I **_need_**?

A burrow underground, old wood and stone, a small fire burning, heating up a pot of rice gruel. A dark haired teen is tending it, another teen, blond and blue eyed, sits near him sharpening a dagger. In the far corner of the burrow, strumming on an old guitar, is a different blond, brown eyes stare wide open unseeingly at the ceiling, and sings a catchy song without a care in the world.

Beside me there's another boy, several years younger than them, gingerly holding something in his bandaged hands.

 **Tie. Leaf. Ell.**

 ** _(My brothers...)_**

Then the scene changes. Instead of a hole in the ground I'm standing on the doorway of a small room. A hammock hangs from the ceiling, a chest serves as a dresser and knickknacks litter the room. There's a shout from outside and I walk to the window and look out to see Ben running, alarmed, away from Frypan holding a wooden ladle. Clearly the boy must've tried to steal some food off the pantry again.

I can see the other cooks laughing at his misfortune along with Clint, who had to have been gossiping with them before Ben tried to be clever.

The wood creaks behind me and I turn around to see yet another blond teen lean cockily against my door frame.

He gives me a grin and his soft brown eyes light up.

 _ **Newt.**_

I'm brought out of my head by incessant beeping. I look at the beetle blade resting on my leg with red rimmed eyes.

Tears are still falling from my eyes and I feel like crap.

"Stupid place to start crying, right?" I offer it a broken chuckle before my mouth twists and I let out another weak sob, "I have no fucking idea of what to do." I admit.

"I don't remember what happened! How am I still alive?" I yell, feebly, "I came here to die! I came here with full intentions to just die! And now..."

 _Now..._

"I don't want to die anymore..." My words echo in the empty maze.

And suddenly it starts raining.

I startle, staring up at the sky covered with dark clouds _(when had these clouds formed?)_ in disbelief, only my disbelief can't exactly rival with the fact I'm drenched within minutes. My hair is plastered to my forehead and dripping down my nose and back; I cup my hands and greedily drink the rainwater.

 _'In never rains in the Glade,'_ Ell's voice cuts into my thoughts, I look to the side to see him frown at the beetle blade in my lap.

That single action jogs my memory, recognition blooms behind my eyes and I nearly breakdown in hysterical laughter. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious.

Beetle Blades spied on us, to _whom_ they spied on us for was easy to guess.

"You're watching me... You, behind those red glass eyes, you're watching me," I say to it.

I can nearly taste the shock the person behind those eyes must feel.

 _A person._

 **A Creator.**

 _One of those who put us in here._

 **One of those who watch... And do nothing.**

"Tell me, did my brothers _have_ to die? Did _anyone_ have to die?" I ask it,"Did you watch Dash be killed? Or did you look away? Did you find it funny? _Did it achieve its purpose_?!" I snarl, angry and bitter.

"Was it worth it?" I ask one final time," Were their deaths worth it?"

" _Or did they all die for nothing?_ " My question lingers around around us like ghosts, hazy specters that cannot help but haunt us for time past.

In the end I'm the one who looks away first, staring up at the sky and letting the rain wash over me.

" _~And they sing the same old song... Though it's been so very long,_ " I sing quietly, Ell's whispering in my ear, echoing my words, " _They sing raindrops falling on my head, but that doesn't mean that I am dead.~_ "

( _A child's voice murmurs in the back of my head, "Don't you know I belong arm in arm with you, baby?"_ )

A quiet beep meets my words.

"Ell was always singing... The few times he wasn't he was writing them all down in this notebook," I tell it, my eyes not leaving the sky, "I remember some, but sometimes I wish I still had his book with me."

Another beep.

"Why don't you stay here?" I ask out of nowhere, not sure why I felt like asking either, "You don't do anything other than watching us, right? So why don't you stay close to me? Probably will find it more interesting..."

There's another bout of silence, intermingled with the sound of rain hitting the marble floor. And then there's a chirp like beep.

A smile tugs at my lips, "Well, then I guess it's you and me, Beats... For however long it takes me to bleed out."

A series of incessant beeps does make me grin.

We stay underneath that blanket of rain for what feels like hours.

* * *

"Can you hear me?" Someone is talking.

I can't see. Everything is pitch black. I can't see and I'm scared. I try to stand up but my legs won't move. I throw my arms out to try and see where that person is but all my hands meet are walls. I'm surrounded by walls.

 _I'm trapped..._

"Hey, it's okay! Don't be scared," The voice tells me, "I'll get you out!"

There's a shuffling sound, like one crawling away, and fear claws at my throat.

"No wait! Don't go! _**Don't leave me!**_ " I cry, big fat tears rolling down my cheeks, I hit my tiny fists against the wall closest to me.

"Don't be so loud! They'll hear us!" The voice is quick to shush me, "Don't worry, I will be right back!"

And like that I am left all alone in the dark.

My heart thunders in my chest, I'm afraid, _very afraid_ , of something; of **someone**.

 _And I want to get out of here._

I wait. I wait for what seems to be hours alone in perpetual darkness, the only sounds reaching my ears being my panicked breathing and wildly beating heart.

Then there are footsteps. Quick, skippering footsteps, (light and soft shoes), walking towards me.

"I'm back! I'll get you out now!" The voice greets me like water to a thirsty man, "Just wait a bit longer."

I hear several beeping noises coming from the wall in front of me.

"Almost..." The voice tells me, "I got it!" It cheers.

 _Light._

I'm blinded by the sudden light. My hands fly up to rub the dark spots on my vision, when they clear I look to see the one who rescued me.

 _ **In my eyes I see an angel.**_

* * *

And then the vision is gone and I find myself falling _down_ , **_down_** , **_down_** through the floor, hitting ash covered ground not long after. The sky above me is grey, the air thick with the stench of rotting flesh and burnt meat.

I choke and cough, clawing at my throat in my panic.

 _I know where I am._

 **I will _never_ forget this place.**

Around me piles of blackened bones, skulls caved in or shattered, many in pieces or scattered where they were disposed of.

Flies and maggots eat what little flesh still clings to the bones.

The sight turns my stomach.

"Well, who do we have here?" An oily voice makes itself known and, through the sudden wave of terror that strikes me, I look up.

Wild, untamed red hair and watery blue eyes, pupils blown like black marbles, devoid of any emotion other than utter glee; sparks of madness in them.

A smiles that stretches uncomfortably wide across his face, drool falling down the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Teeth yellow and crooked, quite a few chipped or missing entirely; He looks on, uncaring," Back again, are 'ya?" He asks, and god, his voice sounds exactly like it did before, but how...?

"Came to see your handiwork?" He asks, cocking his head to the side, his height making him look obnoxiously tall compared to me.

Wide shoulders and muscle, would be how I'd describe his body. _Except..._

 _Except he was_ butchered _._

Throat slit, _he had drowned in his own blood_ ; and his chest stabbed through so many times it looked like a floppy mess of meat, blood, so much blood, soaking the remains of his shirt and pants, pooling at his feet.

Through it all his face never loses that gleam of insanity.

"Like what 'ya see?" He mocks, "'Cuz this was all you!" He laughs.

My heart beats in my throat, vision darkening around the corners, and I know I'm about to pass out.

" _Who's the monster now,_ Sol _-..._ " His words are cut as everything goes black.

 _ **Who's the monster now?**_

* * *

I blink and find myself staring at a desk. I'm inside a perfectly normal looking office; on the desk there's a single file placed cover down.

I walk closer, something hollow fills my bones with dread, and I flip over the file.

Red bold letters are written on it.

" **WICKED is good** ," It reads.

" _Liar_ ," I whisper.

* * *

A fall sideways and hit a soft mattress, bouncing slightly from the impact, and blink once again, confused at the sudden change. My heart isn't rabbiting out of my chest anymore and, if anything, I'm rather sleepy.

I sit up and rub bleary eyes, trying to get them to focus on my surroundings, everything still remains somewhat fuzzy around the edges. I'm faintly alarmed at just how much **_bigger_ **everything looks to be.

I jump off the mattress, the hardwood floor is dusty and creaks when I step on it, like this place had been abandoned for quite some time.

" _It's only for tonight,_ " A hushed voice begs from the other side of the door I only now take notice off, " _Please... Just for tonight._ " They pleaded.

There's something heavy sitting at the bottom of my stomach. Not worry, or hunger, or grief... I couldn't understand it enough to explain it.

" _You can stay here tonight, but I want you out of here come first light,_ " Another voice replies.

" _Thank you! Thank you!_ " The voice sounds so relieved.

Why is it so important we spend the night here? Why are we here? Where is here?

 _The door opens._

" **Who are you?** " I ask, thorns of uneasiness wrapping themselves around me at the sight that greets me.

* * *

"Director! His vitals are crashing!" Thomas was calling for her from the other side of the glass.

She turns away from her desk and towards her favorite boy, leaving behind an open document on display on her screen. A very visible and bold lettering titling it.

 **"Strain Virus - Mutation Delta."**

* * *

...Others tear you open and leave you in pieces." \- Richard Kadrey


End file.
